Dream Come True
by Frosty Poop
Summary: Cinderella, the greatest love story ever retold.
1. Chapter 1

**Cinderella has to be one of my favorite fairy tales. I just recently watched the cartoon, and saw how much was missing in the way of characterization, so I decided to write my own version. I've added some twists and more to the story line, so I hope you enjoy it.**

**More chapters to be uploaded later this week.**

**Dream Come True**

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_Chapter 1_

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_Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a tiny Kingdom; peaceful, prosperous and rich in romance and tradition. Here in a stately chateau there lived a widowed gentleman and his little daughter Cinderella. _

_Although he was a kind and devoted father and gave his beloved child every luxury and comfort, still he felt she needed a mother's care. And so he married again, choosing for his second wife a woman of good family with two daughters just Cinderella's age by the names Anastasia and Drizella._

_It was upon the untimely death of this good man, however, that the stepmother's true nature was revealed. Cold, cruel and bitterly jealous of Cinderella's charm and beauty, she was grimly determined to forward the interests of her own two awkward daughters._

_Thus, as time went by, the chateau fell into disrepair, for the family fortunes were squandered upon the vain and selfish stepsisters while Cinderella was abused, humiliated and finally forced to become a servant in her own house. And yet through it all, Cinderella remained ever gentle and kind, for with each dawn she found new hope that someday her dreams of happiness would come true._

A kind, soft face floated before her. She reached out and touched the strong jaw. She felt character behind each wrinkle. She felt everything--the hard work, the love lost, the love found.

"My dearest Cinderella," her father's deep voice vibrated from his throat into her hand.

"Yes?" she whispered anxiously, her voice small and childish.

"Cinderella, one day you'll meet the man you love..." he smiled sweetly into her soft face, pulling her hand gently from his cheek and grasping it firmly with his own.

"Will he be a prince," she felt her eyes widening with innocent curiosity, "like in a fairy tale?" His soft blue eyes looked down at her with a touch of pity, and he shook his head silently, a sad smile twitching across his thin lips.

"My dearest..." he turned his face away from her and let his fair eyes rest on the receding darkness outside her window. "Life is not a fairy tale, and neither is love." he lowered his head and closed his eyes. "You will learn this in time."

Her mind filled with confusion and thousands of questions she did not know the meaning to. She could not understand what he meant, and secretly hoped she never would. Her father's unhappiness could not be hidden from her, even as sheltered and innocent as she was. She noticed how her father looked at her stepmother. His glances never contained anything more than simple acknowledgement of the woman's presence. She noticed the distance they kept between each other, and it hurt her to see her father's pride and confidence slip between his fingers with every cutting comment from her stepmother.

Her father sighed, and his thin shoulders rose and fell with effort. He was not well. She reached a hand out and touched the wool of his coat. He flinched and turned towards her, wiping a tear quickly from his cheek.

"Why are you sad?" she noticed the strained smile that spread across his pale cheeks. It hurt to look at him, but her naïve heart kept her from understanding, from feeling too deeply the same pain he felt.

"You know what?" his eyes brightened and his smile broadened in earnest.

"What?" excitement churned in her stomach with her father's sudden burst of glee.

"You _will_ marry a prince." his eyes glittered as she uttered an infectious giggle. "And you'll have the grandest wedding in all the kingdom!" he leaned down and tickled her until her stomach hurt with laughter. He stood and walked to the side of the bed as her giggles subsided. "Now, sleep my darling. Morning is almost here." he kissed her on the forehead, and her eyes closed on their own. His footsteps faded slowly.

She would wait until he reached the door, and then she would open her eyes and sit up. It was a game…a game they used to play…

Chirps of birds filled her ears with what sounded like demands and simple, polite requests for her to get up, but she simply pulled her pillow over her head to try and smother the sounds. Flapping wings beat through the air as birds flitted through her open window. A tiny lovebird landed on her bed and peered under the pillow bravely, chirping in earnest.

She opened her eyes and startled the little bird. She smiled and sat up quickly, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. The birds cheeped in surprise and flew to the windowsill. The one who had flown under her pillow bumped into the bed frame in its rush to get away. She picked up the dazed bird gently and laughed.

"Well, serves you right, spoiling people's best dreams." the birds chirped in earnest this time. The tiny creature in her hands looked up at her and blinked at the sound of her soft voice. She continued talking as if he'd replied to her. "Yes, I know it's a lovely morning, but it was a lovely dream too." she sighed and set the bird down on her bed. The bird regained its composure and flew to the window with the others. She watched as the birds immediately involved themselves in a flurry of chatter. She had no one to talk to, and they served as her only company, so why feel ashamed?

Cinderella stood reluctantly and hummed to herself as she made the bed. It was a daily routine she clung to--the only pleasant way she found to start her mornings. She opened her mouth and let words flow out in a sweet melody, a song her mother used to sing to her. The birds recognized the tune and began to chirp along with her.

"A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep. In dreams you will lose your heartaches, whatever you wish for, you keep. Have faith in your dreams and someday…" she paused, and the birds finished the melody for her. She smiled and tucked the covers under her pillow, moving to undress and take a quick bath.

"No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing…" a cardinal flew over and plopped into her bath water, splashing cool droplets all over her wings in earnest. "Shoo! That's my water! You may have _your_ bath later, Lady Red." she flapped her hands at the protesting cardinal and dipped the rag into the water, squeezing it full. The chilly water dripped down her bare skin and made her shiver. She scrubbed at her skin gingerly, trying to wipe away all traces of exhaustion.

She hummed to herself, drying her hair with a damp rag. Cool air blew in from the open window, and she hurried to put her clothes on. She stood in front of her small mirror and brushed the knots out of her damp, mousy brown hair.

"The dream that you wish will come true--"

BONG!

"Ack!" The tower clock at the palace startled her, and she dropped the brush on her dresser. The birds fluttered about nervously.

BONG!

"Oh, that old clock…old killjoy." Cinderella picked up her brush once more and braced the rattling mirror and herself for more of the clock's loud protests.

BONG!

"I hear you, I hear you. 'Get up!' you say, 'Time to start another day.'"

BONG!

She finished brushing her hair, and tied it back with a ribbon. "Even he orders me around." the birds fluttered about, chirping and squawking at the loud chimes of the clock along with her.

BONG!

She looked in the mirror deliberately, staring into her eyes, speaking both to herself and the birds. "Well, there's one thing--they can't order me to stop dreaming." she moved over to the window, flashes of the pleasant face from her dream wafting into her mind's eye as the scents of the morning filled her nose.

BONG!

"Maybe someday…the dreams _I_ wish will come true." she whistled to the birds cheerily. "Off to start another day. Goodbye!" she waved and they all fluttered away, chirping and singing the melody to her song.

Her cheery smile faded as the dim prospects of the morning invaded her otherwise wonderful day. She opened the door to the stairwell hesitantly, stifling a sneeze as the dank dusty smell of the stairs rose up to her nostrils. She closed the door and made her way reluctantly down flight after flight of rickety wooden stairs, marveling at why someone would construct such a labyrinth of stairs just to reach the simple room she owned. It was impractical--and she seemed to get enough exercise without having to run up and down these stairs morning and evening.

A horde of squeaking mice jumped up between the stairs and she nearly tripped.

"What's wrong?" her voice echoed loudly against the walls of the tower.

The mice looked up at her frantically and raced down the steps, urging her to follow. A surprising amount of sympathy welled up in her throat. They weren't huge rats, by any means. She let them stay in the house since they hardly made a mess, and she couldn't help but find them rather appealing, with their bright beady eyes and innocent, twitching noses.

She reached the bottom of one landing, gasping for air. Her heart jolted as her eyes fell on the cause of all the mayhem.

"How could they?" she stepped towards the mouse cage, the other mice moving quickly to the side, away from her stomping feet. "She must have put this out…and I asked her specifically not to." Her stepmother's leering face appeared in her mind. She clenched her fists in anger.

Cinderella lifted the latch to the cage, but the mouse inside refused to move. "Oh, you poor thing…" she turned the cage toward the other mice who shied away from the ominous trap. "You better explain things to him, Jacques."

A particularly bold mouse, which she'd become quite fond of, presented himself in front of the others and stood on his hind legs, sniffing anxiously towards the newcomer. She could trust him to help the poor, trembling mouse in any way possible. The small rotund creature inside the cage quickly warmed up to Jacques.

"I think I'll call him Gus. What do you think?" she held out her hand to the small mouse, and he leaned over, biting her index finger gently. "Yes. That suits you very well indeed." a small grin creased her tired lips before she stood and abandoned her dear friends with a heavy heart.

Cinderella flew through the door once she reached the bottom landing. Her heart quickened with every tap of her shoe against the marble floor. She dreaded this part of the morning. A small sliver of light crept across the dusty carpet as she opened her stepmother's door. The light fell on a plump, pampered cat that slept in his cushioned bed. He opened his eyes and yawned at her.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty." she whispered. "Come kitty. Come on Lucifer." the cat stood and turned his back on her, pretending to go back to sleep. "Lucifer!" she said firmly. He turned his furry face to her, irritation written on every whisker and glint of his eye. "Come here!"

The cat jumped down and slowly walked through the door, pausing in the doorway to aggravate her. She shut the door firmly, bumping his backside and giving him a proper face plant into the floor. He straightened and seemed to gain his composure, prancing in front of her with a waving tail in the air.

"I'm sorry if your Highness objects to an early breakfast. It's certainly not _my_ idea to feed you first. It's orders." she opened the door and waited for Lucifer to stroll in as slowly as he pleased. "Come on." she ordered irritably. He always seemed to ruin her mornings.

She stepped down the stairs that led into the kitchen and was startled by the sound of a whimpering dog. The door slammed shut as she bounded down the steps only to find Bruno on the floor, twitching in the midst of a dream. She breathed a sigh of relief. He awoke and sat up anxiously, tapping his tail in greeting. She walked over and bent down, patting him on the head.

"Good morning, Bruno." he yawned lazily at her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a proper hug. She breathed in deeply and rubbed her nose into the sweet scent of his fur. A wet tongue splashed across her neck, and she yelped in surprise, jerking into an upright position. She chuckled at his soft eyes that begged for more attention.

"I'd love to stay with you all day, love, but the cat must be fed, and other chores must be done..." she kissed him on the head and turned to pour milk in Lucifer's bowl.

A deep growl resonated from behind her, and a cat screamed in pain. She whipped around to see Bruno standing above a pitifully whimpering cat.

"Bruno!" He stopped growling instantly and turned his watery brown eyes to her beseechingly.

"Come on, now. Outside." she opened the door, and he walked out, his tail between his legs. "I know it isn't easy, but at least we should try to get along." She smiled apologetically after Bruno.

She turned on her heel towards the cat and smacked Lucifer's bowl onto the floor in front of him, making an extra effort to splash some of the milk onto him. "And that goes for you as well, your Majesty." The cat's glare followed her as she put on her shawl and grabbed a bag of cornmeal.

The wind chilled her bones as she took a step out the door. Her worn shoes crunched on the hard frost in a patch of crabgrass next to the steps, and she felt her heart sink as she realized that cold weather meant she'd have to start chopping firewood. She pushed the thoughts aside as an anxious rooster acknowledged her presence with a loud squawk and a strut in her direction. She threw a generous handful of corn kernels it the rooster pen before making her rounds to the other animals.

"Breakfast!" she called. Chickens ran from their houses and out into the morning air. "Breakfast everyone, come on out now." she threw the corn on the ground for the chickens until the bag in her hands was nearly emptied. A flurry of movement near her feet caught her attention, and she looked down to see all the mice fighting for pieces of corn from the selfish birds.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I almost forgot!" tipping the sack over, she emptied the rest of the corn kernels onto the ground. "There you are." She shooed the chickens away into their houses and moved towards the stable to feed the horse.

"Good morning, Delbert!" she greeted her old horse cheerfully.

He snorted and rubbed his soft nose against her hand. She closed her eyes and let her fingers caress his familiar face. His soft ears and the hair that grew between them, his course face and long eyelashes…they reminded her of the times she'd spent with him as a child. He'd been a gift to her from her father when she was only seven years old. Cinderella cherished Delbert with all her heart, since he was the only pleasant memory from her childhood after her seventh birthday. Delbert pushed her with his head and whinnied impatiently.

"All right, all right…" she heaved a sigh and filled his box with fresh oats.

The ripe stench of horse manure reached her nose, and she cringed inwardly. Even though she'd been responsible for the old bag of bones since a child, the smell of manure still irked her. It was a messy job, and soon she was sweating despite the cold air. A swift breeze greeted her as she strolled out of the musty stable. The sweat was frozen into little ice crystals on her cheeks by the time she reached the water trough.

Cinderella pocketed the scrub brush and heaved the wooden trough onto its side. She realized with a twinge of annoyance that the uppermost layer of the water was frozen, and in her frustration she merely beat at the ice with the hard end of the scrub brush until it gave way. Grunting, she picked up the heavy water trough and walked slowly over to the well, her hands sore from the weight and the ice-cold water that constantly dripped on her hands. Her breath caught in her chest as she stumbled clumsily over a tree root. She cried out in frustration as her numb hands tried desperately to grasp the heavy load on her shoulders, but her foot was caught beneath the root.

Something moved in the corner of her eye, but she could not turn and look, too concentrated as she was to catch her balance. Her numb fingers would not allow her to let go of the wooden trough, nor would they allow her to readjust it, to keep it from sliding down her arm. The trough toppled out of her arms and she fell along with it. She closed her eyes, wincing, preparing herself for a hard blow against the sharp side of the wood and for the snap of her ankle--but a strong arm had wrapped itself around her waist, stopped her fall. She opened her eyes to see the trough merely inches from her head.

"That was close…" a deep voice said behind her. The arm tensed, and she was lifted to her feet.

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**So? You like?**

**Leave a review, please.**

**Much appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So here it is, loves! Yet another chapter to add to this story. Hope you've enjoyed it so far, cause it's only going to get better (I do pray). **

**Right.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Cinderella, nor do I own many things from this story. They belong to Disney. The fairy tale itself--well, that I suppose belongs to...someone. Give them my regards.

**Dream Come True**

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_Chapter 2_

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She twisted her head and looked behind her at a man who only topped her height by a few inches. Chestnut eyes met her gaze.

"Who…?" she stared, lost for words. He removed his arm from around her waist and promptly stepped back, raising his hands in surrender.

"I mean no harm! I just came to get some water and happened to see you…falling." he leaned down and lifted the trough with ease, face expressionless. His eyes studied her face for a moment as if waiting for a reply.

"Thank you…" she spoke softly and uneasily, eyeing him with a guarded conscience.

He was dressed in degradingly plain clothes, and his face was covered in smudges of dirt. His hair fell across his forehead in a few graceful arcs, but it could not hide the finely shaped eyebrows that peered through, black against his dark brown hair.

"Mind if I ask you a question?" his resonating voice broke the silence as he readjusted the heavy load on his shoulder.

"Oh, not at all." she fidgeted with her shawl nervously.

"Why are you carrying this heavy trough all the way to the well?" he waited, and continued when she remained speechless, "Why not carry a few buckets back and forth?"

"Well--"

"Oh, but now I see it." he interrupted. "You'd have to refill, and lugging so many buckets back and forth would be just as tiring as carrying the entire trough. Yes, I see your logic now." he stepped away briskly, making his way to the well without another word.

She hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the outspoken nature of the strange man. She allowed herself to study him for only a moment as he moved in front of her. He was not an overly tall man, but despite his stocky build and broad shoulders, his poise gave the impression that he was a taller gentleman. He walked with a regal atmosphere, and she half considered whether the title "gentleman" could be applied accurately. She shook her head and all the thoughts that trailed behind the most recent, berating herself silently for the ridiculousness of it.

"Shall I do this alone?"

"Coming!" she snapped out of her reverie and trotted quickly to the well.

He set the trough down in front of her, wiping his soiled hands on the wool pants that hung loosely around his lean legs. She reached for the handle to pull up the water bucket, but he stopped her.

"No, let me." he took the handle from her hand.

She stepped back at his command, her heart fluttering with the sudden onslaught of undeserved generosity. His facial features were well suited for his face, but his shoulders were much too broad. Perhaps if he had finer clothes--Cinderella cursed herself silently as she found her gaze turned to him once again.

"Might I help myself to some water?" he turned to her, bucket brimming with clear water in his hands.

"Oh, yes, of course." she wrapped the shawl tighter against her bony shoulders as a soft breeze chilled her flushed face.

She pulled out the scrub brush, attempting to concentrate on cleaning bird poop and grime from the wood. The work in front of her faded, and she found herself peering from the corner of her eye. The man balanced the bucket on the edge of the stone well, cupping his hands to draw the sweet water to his parched lips. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt and sighed contentedly. His eyes wandered dangerously close to her direction. She scrubbed viciously at the trough to distract herself. He walked over and handed her the bucket, and she took it without lifting her gaze to his face.

"Thank you." she muttered and nodded, pouring the rest of the chilly water into the trough.

"Forgive my seeming forward, but might I have your name?" he remained unmoved in front of her. She glanced up and opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of ringing bells reached her ears.

"Oh, blast…" she stood quickly. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Maybe I will see you another time…?"

"I shall look forward to it." he smiled gently at her, but she merely dropped the brush in the water and ran.

The bells rang in earnest. All three of them.

"I know, I know, I hear you!" she shouted as she slammed the door behind her. She rubbed her hands together viciously in a bowl of water before preparing the breakfast trays.

Lucifer yowled as she took a step backwards. "Oh, Lucifer! You always manage to get under my feet…"

Lucifer scampered up the steps, hanging his tail in shame. A group of mice carrying their breakfast flew across the kitchen floor into a hole unnoticed by the skulking cat. Cinderella barely heard the scrape of mouse feet against the tiled floor above her screaming stepsisters.

"Cinderella!" Drizella shrieked from upstairs.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" she threw the cups upside down on their saucers and hurried along, balancing one tray on her head and one tray in each hand.

"Cinderella!" Anastasia screeched.

"Just a minute!" she set one tray down on the table and opened the door to the main hall.

"Cinderella! Cinderella!" Anastasia and Drizella shouted in chorus. She hurried up the steps and opened Drizella's door first.

"Good morning Drizella. Sleep well?" she set the tray down on her bedside table as gently as she could, slightly out of breath. Drizella crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip.

"Humph. As if you care." she pointed to a large pile of clothes sitting on a chair next to the door. "Take that ironing and have it back in a hour, you hear? One hour!"

"Yes Drizella." she grabbed the pile of clothes in one hand and the tray on her head wobbled precariously, but many years of practice kept the tray from tipping too far. She hurried to the next door.

"Good morning Anastasia." she laid the tray at the foot of her stepsister's bed, just the way she always demanded it. She quickly mopped up some spilled tea from around the teakettle with her apron, but Anastasia didn't notice.

"Well, it's about time!" Cinderella turned to leave, but Anastasia stopped her. "Oh, and don't forget the mending. Don't be all day doing it, either."

"Yes Anastasia." she grabbed the basket of clothes and hurried out the door.

She set the basket and the pile of clothes on the floor outside her stepmother's room. She straightened her apron and took the tray from her head with two steady hands.

"Well, come in, child. Come in!"

"Good morning, Stepmother."

"Pick up the laundry and get on with your duties." the usual cold greeting.

"Yes, Stepmother." she turned to go, feeling her previous cheerfulness seep from her with every step she took away from the demanding and unkind woman.

"EEEEK!" a shriek startled Cinderella, and she almost dropped all the laundry in her hands. "Ohhh! Mother! Oh, mother!" Anastasia stormed from her room and only stopped to point an accusing finger in Cinderella's face. "You did it. You did it on purpose!" she turned and raced into the other room. "Mother! Mother! Mother, mother!"

"_Now_ what did you do?" Drizella screamed at Cinderella as she ran from her bedroom to her mother's.

"Oh _she_ put it in there. A big, ugly mouse under my teacup." Cinderella ignored Anastasia complaints, knowing she absolutely did _not_ do it. Or at least…not on purpose.

She stepped into Anastasia's room and found Lucifer sitting on the floor looking extremely pleased with himself. She put her arms on her hips and glared at the cat.

"All right Lucifer. What did you do with him?" he sat up to reveal his front paws had nothing underneath them, trying to look as innocent as possible. "Now the other one…" she grabbed one of his front paws and pulled him up. He lifted one back leg. "Come on, now. Let him go." Lucifer glowered at her and yanked himself from her grip, revealing Gus under his other large back foot as he darted from the room.

"Oh, you poor thing…" she reached to pick up Gus.

"Cinderella!" her stepmother's voice chilled her, and she winced with anticipation, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the punishment she would receive.

"Yes Stepmother." she motioned towards the door and Gus ran as fast as his dazed little feet would take him. She walked into the hallway, regained her composure, and entered her stepmother's room.

"Hmph!" Drizella scoffed, bumping past her out the door.

"Are _you_ gonna get it." Anastasia stepped around her, walking with her nose in the air.

"Close the door, Cinderella." she turned at her stepmother's command and shut the door in Anastasia and Drizella's faces. She heard them argue over the keyhole, and hoped they stayed there so she could open the door _smack_ into their large noses when she left. "Come here." her stepmother's eyes gleamed under dark cover of the canopy bed. All of her composure melted away as she looked into those heartless eyes, and all she could do was protest futilely.

"Oh, please, you don't think that I--"

"Hold your tongue!" her stepmother's words exploded from the shadows. Lucifer purred on her lap. "Now," she chuckled to herself, "it seems we have time on our hands…"

"But I had no idea--"

"Silence! Time for vicious practical jokes. Perhaps we can put it to better use. Now, let me see…there's the large carpet in the main hall. Clean it!" her eyes flashed dangerously. "And the windows, upstairs and down. Wash them!" Cinderella opened her mouth to protest. "Oh yes, and the tapestries and the draperies."

"But I just finished--"

"Do them again! And don't forget the garden. Then scrub the terrace, sweep the halls and the stairs, clean the chimneys and, of course, there's the mending and the sewing and the laundry." Lucifer purred loudly and proudly. He flashed a cat-smile at her and she squinted her eyes in warning. "Oh yes, and one more thing. See that Lucifer gets his bath." the purring stopped abruptly. Cinderella beamed with triumph at the cat, much to the surprise of her stepmother, and bowed politely before exiting.

She turned the doorknob furiously, and Anastasia and Drizella jumped back in surprise. She stormed past her shocked stepsisters and into the kitchen. She leaned heavily against the closed door and fought back tears, the fearless and bold composure she'd shown fading with every beat of her furious heart. It took all she had to suppress the rage that brewed within her thoughts, and she moved slowly across the room, sinking into the chair at her desk. With a trembling hand, she took a piece of paper and a quill from the writing desk that was shoved most inconveniently in the corner for lack of space. Cinderella dipped the quill in the ink and began a list.

_To do:_

_1. Main hall carpet to be cleaned_

_2. Windows - up and down to be washed_

_3. Wash tapestries_

_4. Wash draperies_

_5. Weed garden_

_6. Scrub terrace_

_7. Sweep halls and stairs_

_8. Clean chimneys_

_9. Mending, ironing, laundry_

_10. Lucifer_

There was something she was forgetting…as if she'd been in the middle of something this morning--ah…the water trough. She never had time to clean it.

"Just one more thing to add to the list…" her voice was merely a whisper.

She folded the piece of paper and shoved it in an apron pocket, a few traces of fury still present in the fists she clenched tightly at her sides. She closed her eyes and stole into her thoughts, pulling up the angry thoughts that whirled in her head, allowing them to scream what she felt to the very marrow of her bones: _It's just not fair!_

A single tear dripped down her cheek, and with it, the screaming thought.

_There,_ she thought, _I'm ready now._

She took a deep breath and stepped out the door into the bright fall sunshine with a new confidence.

_Just let them try and bring me down…I won't give up just yet._

- - -

**Not quite as much of a cliffie as last chapter. Sorry about that, dearies.**

**The next chapter, I fear, may not be published until next week some time, and even then it's not very likely.**

**But see, you love me anyway, so you'll leave a review to tell me how much you're looking forward to the next chapter, eh?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Arrrgh!**

**I apologize for the last chapter. It really was too short.**

**I hope you'll find this chapter much more satisfying and Cinderella-ish.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Cinderella-yaddayadda. You know who it belongs to. Why do I even waste time on these? **

**Dream Come True**

- - -

_Chapter 3_

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Cinderella felt her spirits lifting as the fall sunshine greeted her, bringing a bright smile to her lips and a rose-colored blush to her cheeks. Not even the rush of a sudden chilling breeze could dishearten her. The temperature had not risen one degree since she had been outside earlier. She reached her hands up to tighten the shawl about her shoulders, but she found it missing. Her heart jumped when she realized the shawl had been missing even before she took breakfast to her stepsisters. It must have fallen off earlier…

She wandered past the stables, clutching her arms in the chill winds that buffeted the simple dress and apron about her legs in a fury. Her feet stopped in their tracks as her eyes fell onto the isolated well. The man was gone, along with her shawl and the water trough. So he'd stolen the trough…and she only thought it typical. The wood the trough was made from was a strong old oak. It was weathered, but it would probably meet a fair price in the market. But what did he want with her shawl?

She shook her head and shivered, making her way silently back to the house. The sound of lapping water stopped her suddenly. She turned on her heel upon reaching the back door and walked briskly towards the sound. A cry of surprise escaped her lips as her eyes fell on Bruno as he drank out of a spotlessly clean water trough. The dog licked his chops and trotted over to her cheerily, wagging his tail in greeting. She stepped towards the trough, placing her hands on the edge and examining the handiwork of the man without a name.

All of the dried bird droppings had been scraped and thoroughly scrubbed clean. Even stains she had never succeeded in cleaning were completely gone. And as she rubbed her calloused hands across the smooth, clean edge of the wood, her fingers touched something soft. She looked down to find her shawl hanging gently and gracefully on one corner.

"I have misjudged him…" she spoke aloud, patting Bruno's head absentmindedly.

A bell rang inside the kitchen, startling her from the pleasant lull she'd fallen into. She groaned and made her way indoors and up the stairs into the main hall.

"Cinderella!" her stepmother screamed from the top of the stairs. She halted at the bottom step and looked up at the tall figure that loomed over her on the landing above.

"Yes, Stepmother?"

"Why haven't you started the chores yet?"

"I was sidetracked. I apologize. It won't happen again."

"Yes, quite. Well that doesn't matter now. The girls and I are going out to buy a few things at the market. I expect you to be finished with the chores when we return in a few hours." Cinderella nodded and made her way back into the kitchen.

"My ironing better be done when I get back, too!" Drizella shouted from the top of the stairs. Cinderella held her tongue and simply nodded silently.

She rolled up the long carpet from the main hallway and dragged it under one arm. Picking up the broom on her way out, she hitched the narrow and long carpet up to her shoulder and out to the clothesline. Despite its length, the carpet was not weighty enough to slip through the clothespins and cause more trouble than she needed. She took the broom with a firm grasp and promptly beat the carpet until the dust billowed in large clouds. Her arms worked furiously, her face shining with sweat despite the still-cold air.

The dust always seemed to beat out faster when she pictured her stepmother looming over her shoulder barking orders. She depended on these carpet cleanings. This was the only time she could express anger without punishment. She had control, for once, and it felt wonderful. She breathed heavily, her arms buzzing from intense, repetitive motion.

"This is some list." she turned around suddenly, recognizing the man's voice, surprised as a rush of fear sent shivers down her spine. She saw he was holding her list of chores. "Are you supposed to do all of this today…by yourself?"

She nodded dumbly, embarrassed that she'd dropped yet _another_ thing, and that he'd been there to watch her beat the Dickens out of a hall carpet. A blush crept up her already flushed face.

"No." he shook his head and looked at her in mock seriousness, "This will not do. I'm just going to have to help you."

A smile spread on her face from ear to ear. A weight was lifted from her shoulders, and she felt strength seep through her. She _would_ get through the day after all.

"But there's one thing I must ask before we begin…" the mischievous glint in his eyes softened as he took on a more serious expression.

"And what's that?"

"Your name."

"My name…?" she hesitated, looking into the pleasant face before her, but still wondering whether he could be trusted. He smiled, seeming to sense her uneasiness.

"I understand. I am a stranger to you, as you are to me. If it would make you more comfortable, I am willing to give a false name in return for one from you," he paused, looking down for a moment as if collecting his thoughts, "as long as you promise to remain yourself, despite the name…" his voice trailed off as his brows creased in concentration. He opened and closed his mouth uncomfortably, seeming to stumble for better words.

"I give you my word," she smiled and held out her hand. "and you may call me Gwyn." she was pleased with the name she'd chosen, thankful that her mind was still sharp enough despite her exhaustion.

He let out a breath of relief, his expression relaxing.

"Abram." he grasped her hand firmly and enthusiastically, only letting go when a sound from the other side of the house startled them both.

Horse's hooves clacked against cobblestones. Her stepmother was leaving…and they weren't going out the front entrance.

She turned desperately to Abram and motioned for him to move behind the carpet. His feet showed beneath it, so she stood right in front of his feet and pretended to pry pieces of dirt from the threadbare carpet. The carriage clattered by and did not stop. Abram, thankfully, had gone unseen. Her heart beat quickly in her chest until the gate squeaked shut behind the carriage, and her pulse relaxed.

"All clear?" a muffled voice called out.

"Yes, you may come out now." Abram stood and looked over the top of the carpet at her. She kept her eyes on the carpet before her. "Sorry I had to hide you, but I've never had company before. I don't know what my stepmother would think if she saw you here…" he stepped around the carpet and stood next to her.

"Does she prefer that you stay alone? Doesn't she care?" she looked up at his concerned face and found that she had many replies to that, but she stuffed all the bitterness into the farthest corner of her mind and simply shook her head. She noticed that he still held the chore list in his hand.

"So what's next?" she felt it was a sad change of topic, but she was feeling rather low on creativity.

"Let's see…main hall carpet to be cleaned." he looked up. "Well, I can see you have that part covered." she laughed and picked up her scrub brush.

"Well, all I need to do is comb the thread." she muttered to her feet.

"Oh?" he seemed truly interested.

She turned to the rug, beginning to comb out the knots in the tassels at the end of the carpet. She felt Abram lean over her to watch, and she was thankful that her face was already red with exercise to hide the blush that bloomed there.  
"Teach me?" he asked after she'd finished the tassels on both sides.

She handed him the brush and instructed him, feeling rather silly. She guided his hand to the carpet and moved his hand and the brush across the threaded designs.

"You brush down and right with the stitching of this striped design that borders the carpet. And see this particular flower here, you comb diagonally down the petal…" she pulled her hand from his and watched as he pushed the brush against the carpet, his face showing enjoyment rather than torture. She couldn't help smiling. It was a new feeling to have someone willing to help her. She didn't feel quite so alone.

The chores seemed to dash by. They finished all the outside work first after taking the rug back indoors. They finished weeding the garden and scrubbing the terrace before an hour had passed. Abram ended up being wonderful company. She knew almost nothing about him, but he cheered her heart and charmed her soul without meaning to.

She led him inside reluctantly, not sure whether she was doing something thoughtless or whether he would prove trustworthy in the end. Cinderella turned and looked at him as they walked up the main hall stairs. He wasn't looking at the house, memorizing every piece of it and calculating its value. He wasn't even looking at the ornate carpet beneath his feet; he simply stared at her and followed her up the stairs like a devoted dog, a heavy bucket of water in each hand. She did not feel the need to cringe or hide from his gaze as she did whenever her stepmother glanced in her direction.

"We'll start with the windows up here." she led the way into her stepmother's room, opening the curtains to spread light into the dismally grim room.

"But these windows--"

"I cleaned them yesterday."

"But why…" his voice faded as she looked at him imploringly. An understanding passed between them, and his heavy sigh told her that he sensed some of the unhappiness she felt, but would not push her any further. Their conversations soon fell into silence as she continually pushed herself into the monotonous routine, barely allowing herself a pleasant thought to pass the time.

They finished the windows in record time as well as the draperies and tapestries. The other chores flew by--and not one word passed between them. Her mind numbed after a while, and she nearly forgot he was there until he'd playfully bump elbows with her or whistle cheerfully, yet all the while she kept her mind dulled to work.

She took the To Do list from Abram's outstretched hand when she asked for it. They still had to sweep all the chimneys, which would be a long and grueling process, but she would leave the mending, ironing, and sewing to herself. Her eyes closed unwillingly as she took an involuntary break from sweeping, leaning against the broomstick heavily.

"Something wrong, Gwyn?" a small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth at the sound of Abram's voice. The name he spoke wasn't hers, but it sounded so pleasant as it passed his lips. She opened her eyes and met his worried gaze.

"No." she shook her head and grabbed one of the buckets next to the kitchen door.

They had moved both buckets down the stairs one at a time as they swept the hallway and each individual step. This was to save them long trips down to the kitchen and outside. They had reached the kitchen door by now with both buckets nearly overflowing with the water they'd used to wash all the windows, draperies, and tapestries. Cinderella motioned for him to take the other bucket, and he followed her into the kitchen, through the door, and into the yard. She stopped after they both poured out their water and looked up to the sky. The sun was setting silently behind the horizon. Her chest tightened nervously as she remembered her stepmother and stepsisters. They could be back any minute, now. She turned to go, but Abram stopped her as he spoke.

"So what's next?" he grinned at her, but she merely took the empty bucket from his hand and walked into the kitchen. "Gwyn?" he followed her quick footsteps into the kitchen. He reached out a hand and touched her arm gently. "Tell me what's wrong."

She stopped and looked down at his hand, feeling her mind slipping from its numbed state. She gently pulled her arm from his touch, surprised as a sense of reluctance flashed across her mind.

"I'm tired. We still need to sweep all the chimneys." she looked up at him for the first time in at least an hour. "You don't have to stay."

He looked down at her and smiled. "No, I don't, but you aren't complaining, are you?"

She sighed and shook her head gently.

They made their way upstairs with the chimney brooms, an ash bucket, and extra rags. They started with Anastasia's room. She stopped suddenly as her eyes fell on Anastasia's bed. Two overly satisfied yellow eyes peered at her in the receding daylight.

"Lucifer! Oh, you rotten cat! You know the rules…" she set down the buckets and raised the chimney broom threateningly. Lucifer's expression froze. "I'll do it. You _know_ I will." She lunged forward as if to strike him, and the cat screeched, darting from the room with his tail high in the air. She turned to Abram and laughed at his wide-eyed expression. "He's harmless, really. I would never strike him, although he has tempted me many times." Abram seemed to relax. She sighed heavily. "And now I must add this bedspread to my chore list. Can you manage without me?"

Abram nodded and took the chimney broom from her hands. He opened his mouth to speak, but she turned and left the room quickly with a sudden burst of energy. She left for what only seemed like a minute, but she could feel that something was wrong as she walked slowly up the stairs with the bedspread folded in her arms. A sound like falling pebbles reached her ears and she quickened her pace, almost to a run, up the stairs and down the hall. She turned the corner quickly into Anastasia's room---

Her eyes widened as a soot-covered face looked at her desperately as he held the broom up to block all the black soot from falling out onto the floor any more than it already had.

"Abram!" she couldn't help laughing at his ridiculously helpless face. She ran over and grabbed the broom from his hand. She expertly turned the broom so that the flat side of the bristles held the soot in place. She moved the broom away from the chimney wall only slightly so that all of the soot fell gracefully into the hearth. After she swept all the remaining soot into the hearth, she set the broom down and looked disapprovingly at him.

"You've never swept a chimney before, have you?" he smiled between coughs and shook his head.

She grinned, still chuckling slightly, and made him lean over the hearth to brush off the soot. Cinderella took off her apron and handed it to him. He took it gratefully and wiped his arms, neck, and face clean of most of the soot. She took the apron from his hands and rubbed all the soot out of his hair. She pulled the apron back and gently combed his hair back into place with her fingers.

"I don't think this is the best job for you." She frowned at him. He beamed at her, and she felt her own smile return to her face.

"Teach me." he took the broom in his hands and kneeled by the fireplace, waiting for her instruction. She held back laughter as she looked at his serious face. He still had soot all over his pale skin. He looked up at her, the expression fading, "I'm glad to see you smiling again, Gwyn." He smiled slightly and then furrowed his brow at the broom in his hands. "Am I holding this correctly?"

- - -

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty…" Cinderella held out the cold ham in front of her and walked quietly up the main hall steps. "Lucifer, I've got some ham. Come and get it!" a loud cat yowl was heard from her stepmother's room. She stepped into the room holding the ham at arm's length and waited for Lucifer to take his time crawling out from under the bed. "There, now. Follow me…"

Lucifer's eyes widened until they were the size of giant glass marbles. He followed after her anxiously, his eyes never leaving the meat in her hand. She couldn't help chuckling at the stupidity of the obese cat when he nearly fell down all the stairs as his attention remained solely on the food. She held out the ham and led Lucifer through the door. She shut it behind her, and motioned to Abram who was hiding at the bottom of the stairs. He lunged forward and grabbed the cat. Lucifer didn't protest, nor did he even notice that a complete stranger was carrying him until his feet touched the soapy water in the bath. He howled and began to bare his yellowed teeth ferociously at Abram.

"Hold him tight, now." Cinderella walked over and held the ham above the cat. "Lucifer!" he instantly stopped his struggling and looked up pitifully. "You may have this ham if you promise to cooperate." she tore off a tiny piece, which the cat swallowed whole in his greed.

He seemed to calm himself slightly, but he'd already managed to completely soak Abram's shirt and spray suds all over the clothes Cinderella had yet to wash. She managed to clean the cat thoroughly while Abram held the wiggling animal. Lucifer was surprisingly cooperative and even let Cinderella pat him on the head briefly after they'd rubbed him down with a dry towel. She gave him the rest of the ham, which he happily devoured. Cinderella let the cat out of the kitchen door and watched him prance away, his tail swishing back and forth regally in the air. She turned back around to see Abram squeezing water out of the bottom of his shirt.

"Oh you must be freezing…" she handed him a clean towel, which he used to rub the soap suds out of his hair and to dab at his soaked shirt fruitlessly.

"I'll be okay." his chestnut eyes went from the water full of cat hair to Cinderella's face. "What do we do with this water?"

"The water has to be emptied and refilled with new water to do the laundry." she sighed and grabbed one handle of the metal bathtub. Abram kept his eyes on her as he grabbed the other handle. Her hands trembled slightly under his gaze, and she nearly dropped her side of the tub.

She kicked the back door open deftly and a cold blast of air blew in through the open doorway. The wind snapped her hair from the ribbon that held it back and she was blinded momentarily as strands of her dulled hair blew in front of her face. She continued to step backwards against the wind, feeling her way down the three back steps with her feet carefully. The chill wind howled about them mercilessly.

"Are you alright?" he yelled above the breeze. She nodded her head vigorously, and pulled Abram and the tub towards the grass.

The water spilled over the edges of the metal pail and nearly froze on their hands. Cinderella was choking on her hair, and felt her world disappear before her in brown strands of hair. She opened her mouth and shouted, but the wind blew away all traces of her voice. She felt her hands slipping from the heavy pail, the world spinning about her in a flurry of lightning flashes. A thunderclap covered up the voice that called out her name. The ground seemed to shake as she fell upon the packed dirt beneath her feet.

Cinderella's head pounded painfully, and she was slowly aware of a crackling sound in her ears. Her eyes flicked open as a wet nose rubbed itself against her limp hand.

"Bruno…" her voice was a whisper.

She looked down at the friendly dogface, its dark brown eyes smiling at her in the firelight. He wagged his tail and put his head on her lap. She stroked behind his ears absentmindedly while she put her thoughts in a logical order.

She had been outside with Abram when--

"Abram!" she spoke out loud without meaning to. She heard footsteps behind her and he was by her side in only a moment.

"I'm here, Gwyn." he kneeled beside the rocking chair and looked up into her face with worry and concern.

"I'm…what happened?" she glanced down and found he'd taken his shirt off to dry. She quickly turned away as a blush rose to her cheeks.

"You collapsed. Gods, Gwyn, you nearly gave me a heart attack." he stood and grabbed his shirt from beside the fire, pulling it on in one swift motion.

She kept her eyes to the fire, not allowing herself to notice his defined torso.

"I managed to refill the bath with water for your laundry--"

"Laundry! Oh no…" she moved to rise from her chair, but Abram put a hand to her shoulder, easing her back into the seat.

"Rest now." he walked over to the brick oven and grabbed something from the top shelf.

"But you don't understand--"

"Here." he placed a steaming cup of soup in front of her, ending all argument between them. Her stomach growled immediately. She took the bowl without a word and began to eat, not caring whether she slurped or splashed chicken broth onto her apron. "When was the last time you had a decent meal?" he kneeled down next to the rocking chair.

She simply shook her head, her mouth full of warm soup. He sighed and placed his hand on the armrest.

"Well, I expect you to take better care of yourself or you'll work to death." he kept his eyes on her face as she swallowed the last bite of her soup.

"Thank you…" she breathed a sigh and closed her eyes to Abram's pleasant face.

She felt herself drifting into a light doze, but a gentle touch awakened her thoughts. She kept her eyes closed as a feeling like sparks drifted from the warm touch on her cheek to her neck. She opened her eyes and met Abram's gaze, his hand resting lightly on her cheek.

"Gwyn," he paused, gathering his words slowly, "I must leave now." she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, and reached up, taking his hand from her cheek and placing it between her two small hands.

"I will miss you." she surprised herself, knowing in her heart she was truly genuine.

He stood taking his hand from her grasp gently, smiled, and left without another word.

She sat in her chair for a few moments, her mind numbed slightly. Cinderella put a hand up to her cheek, still sensing the warmth he left. She stood, allowing herself to fall back into routine as she tossed her stepsisters' clothes into the clear water and went about finishing the last chores of the day.

Abram's pleasant smile floated before her eyes. She barely knew him, yet she found more solace in his presence than even Bruno, her old faithful dog. And slowly, but surely, she convinced herself that she would never see him again, not allowing false hope to take over like it had so many years ago. She'd allowed herself to hope for a better ending, to hope for a happier life, and every time something presented itself with a promise, she was let down.

A soft song rose in her throat as she allowed the menial task of chores to take over her swirling confusion of emotions.

- - -

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wrote it…rewrote it…rewrote it again…**

**But you get my drift.**

**Leave your reviews--I won't be back from our family reunion until Monday, but I've left this chapter just for you, lovies.**

**Thanks much.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A month and two days...?**

**Oh my dears. I am dreadfully sorry.**

**I _was_ at the beach. And before that I was at a funeral so I think I have an excuse!**

**Indeed.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Cinderella, I'd be very happy indeed. But I don't so -sob-**

**Dream Come True**

_- - -_

_Chapter 4_

- - -

_Ch-THUNK!_

Her shoulders jarred as the dull axe blade cracked into the wood, splitting it to the base in one fell swoop.

_Ch-THUNK!_

She gripped the rough wood of the axe handle and lifted her arm to split the last piece in two.

_Ch-THUNK!_

She breathed heavily as the chill wind beat ferociously at the back of her neck, nearly freezing the sweat that dripped down her spine. She straightened, wincing as the last hour and a half of bending over finally took its toll on her back muscles. Cinderella turned and found her eyes falling on the same familiar gate and the empty road behind it.

_Two months of looking…and he has not come._

She sighed and moved to pick up the firewood, attempting to clear her mind completely.

_I miss his face…_

Again, it was no use. With no other pleasant person around to enjoy, she simply was forced to keep her thoughts fixated on a being that cared, truly. And yet she reminded herself every morning that he would not come that day, and would never come the days following. He would disappear from her life just as her father had.

She stopped in her tracks on the way in the kitchen door, nearly dropping all of the firewood as a remembrance flashed across her mind. Today was her father's birthday…and the anniversary of his death. Her breath caught in her chest--how could she have forgotten?

Cinderella bolted through the kitchen, into the main hall, and up the steps. She strode quickly into Drizella's room, throwing the firewood into the grate with haste, ignoring the screams of protest coming from her sister's bed.

"What on earth are you making so much racket for? You're expected to complete your chores quietly!" Drizella sat up as Cinderella lit the fire and moved past her without a word. "Where's my breakfast? I want my tea!"

"Make your own tea." Cinderella shut the door, silencing any further argument between them.

She tried her best to make the least noise in Anastasia's room, realizing she would have to deal with twice the temper Drizella showed in the mornings. Anastasia's loud snores did not falter, however, and she was able to exit without interruption. Her stepmother's room remained silent as she entered. She treaded lightly on the dusty carpet, barely breathing as she set each piece of firewood into the hearth gently. She froze after she lit the match for the fire, listening intently to her stepmother's soft breathing. She lit the fire and tiptoed to the door. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, and her heart beat with triumph as she took a quiet step into the hallway.

"Just where do you think you are going?" a cold voice froze her insides. She turned slowly and faced her stepmother with growing confidence.

"I have an important meeting in the marketplace today. I expect to be back in time to make breakfast--"

"And I expect you to keep your word. No dilly-dallying. Because of this little trip of yours, I will have extra chores prepared for you when you return."

"Yes, Stepmother." she bowed her head and turned to leave, her heart sinking, both with disappointment in herself and the dim prospects of the morning.

- - -

She grabbed her shawl, throwing it about her shoulders before she bolted out the kitchen door. Her heart beat quickly, her mind a whirl of inconsistent thoughts. She nearly forgot to grab a handful of cold-weather wildflowers before she made her way past the rusty gate. Cinderella strode quickly, her feet guiding her in the right direction without being told. She allowed her swirling thoughts to take over most of her conscience. The world around her faded as she slipped further into her exhausted mind.

_I feel as though I nearly betrayed Father…how could I forget? After all these years--_

She caught herself suddenly as she nearly tripped on a stone in the road.

_Oh, I _am_ a distracted fool!_

She slowly emerged from her thoughts as her eyes focused on the tops of her feet; they had stopped moving, frozen in front of a brass gate. She looked up, her eyes searching the deserted graveyard she knew so well. Her feet moved forward with a will of their own until she stood before a weatherworn and faded gravestone.

The front of the headstone was completely smooth from years of harsh rain and winds. Small indentations of the year and epitaph were all that remained. She kneeled on the ground, setting the wildflowers next to the headstone. She rubbed a hand across the smooth face of the rock. Her eyes closed and a clear picture formed in her mind.

She saw the gravestone as it was many years ago, freshly carved above the clotted dirt that covered her father's casket. She stood alone, a small girl without a hand to hold for comfort. Her stepfamily stood to the side, her stepmother wearing the traditional black gown in mourning. The woman held a white kerchief to her cheek to catch the occasional tear that dripped from her eyes. Cinderella let the tears fall down her cheeks, ignoring the burn of Drizella and Anastasia's scathing looks. They no doubt blamed her for a waste of their precious time. Footsteps approached, and her stepmother was soon standing next to her, looking down at the freshly packed earth.

"It is such a tragedy, my dear. I truly loved your father…" Her stepmother seemed to hold back sobs, but Cinderella saw through her foolish antics. The woman placed a black gloved hand on her shoulder, "I understand how utterly devastated you must feel." Cinderella shook her shoulder from her stepmother's grasp and stared defiantly into the unfeeling face above her.

"I'm sorry, Lady Tremaine, but you don't." she clenched her hands into fists, nearly crushing the freshly cut flowers she held between her fingers. Her voice rose to a new height despite the lump in her throat. "You will never understand--"

"Foolish girl!" a gloved hand smacked her firmly across the face. Anastasia and Drizella instantly stopped their bickering and fell silent. "You will only refer to me as 'Stepmother,' do you understand?"

Cinderella put a hand up to her cheek, shocked at the changed character of the woman before her. She opened her mouth, but no words came forth.

"I said, _do you understand?_" her stepmother raised her hand threateningly, preparing to slap her again. She cowered beneath the shadow of her stepmother's arm and cried out.

"Yes, Stepmother!" her whole body trembled with fear as she looked down, tears spilling down both cheeks and onto her black lace dress. Her shoulders shook with sobs, but her stepmother simply turned and left, pulling her two ornery daughters along by their elbows.

Cinderella collapsed to her knees, her body quaking with sobs as she dug her fingers into the sweet smelling earth. Her tears fell onto the flowers she still clutched in one hand, and she watched as the petals of black-eyed-Susan's and violets withered with each salty droplet that fell.

Cinderella's eyes opened as she snapped out of her reverie, her heart shuddering with the remembrance of the events that occurred after the funeral. It was that evening everything changed. She was placed in the attic, and at the age of seven, she became the household servant, forced to pick up after her despicable stepsisters. A fear grew in her heart the night of her father's death, the night her stepmother had lashed out at her. She had pushed all emotions deep down inside herself, the fright overtaking every thought until she was forced to wear a mask for her stepfamily. She became their slave, her will trained after so many years to be bent on their bidding alone with no consideration for herself.

Her spirit calmed over the years until she remained a gentle and mild woman, with no thoughts but to follow the orders of her stepmother. But somewhere in her heart she felt it--the pride of knowing she was better than Anastasia and Drizella in many ways. So over the years, Cinderella slowly resigned herself to the fact that all the punishment she received was driven by jealousy, for she had much more to offer than her stepsisters, and her stepmother knew it all too well.

Cinderella took a deep breath, compelling herself to drift back into the reserved, gentle manner she retained at home. She leaned over and placed the flowers next to her father's headstone, wondering whether he'd be proud. She imagined him sitting next to her, but found she could not determine his expression. Would he be proud that she did not let the stepfamily see the anxiety they caused her, that she had not let them succeed, or would he be disappointed that she had lived in denial of her feelings for thirteen years?

She sighed, watching as the image of her father faded before her. It was childish to put herself through this torture year after year with the thoughts of her father.

_The dream that you wish will come true…_

The song played in her head, and she was reminded of hope--the hope she'd kept for all of these years that she would be free of the family she never felt a part of.

"It's decided, then," she spoke aloud to herself, "I will just have to wait patiently for a few more years and then…" her eyes fell on the dirt beneath her feet, the dirt above her father's casket, "And then, Father, you'll finally be proud of me. I'll shake this family from me forever…and you'll be proud."

Cinderella stood, shaking the loose dirt from her knees and marveling at the renewed hope that spread from her heart down to the tips of her fingers and toes.

"Happy birthday, Father." She smiled, feeling for once that the expression on her father's face would have to be one of delight.

The clock called out, signaling it would soon be seven o' clock, and her heart jumped. She would be late for breakfast--and that meant extra chores on top of the ones she would receive from her bitter stepmother. She clutched the shawl about her shoulders, took a deep breath, and bolted from the cemetery. Birds flew in fright from her pounding footsteps against the cobblestones, and she felt rejuvenated with their cheerful voices; she quickened her pace, for once enjoying the cool breeze that beat against her face.

Cinderella found herself in the kitchen before the clock was finished striking seven, and she had the kettle hanging above the fire before the echoes had subsided.

- - -

"Your breakfast, Stepmother." she tapped lightly on the door before entering. Her stepmother awoke with a start, her eyes gleaming in the firelight with annoyance.

"You're late, child." she sat up slowly, taking the tray from Cinderella's hands.

"Yes, I know. What chores will you have me do today?" her heart beat quickly in her chest as her stepmother sneered maliciously.

"Well, since you seem so…_energetic, _I think you'll do well to sweep and scrub down every hard floor in this house, including the dining hall. We are having guests over and I want our house to look its finest, do you understand?"

"Yes, Stepmother."

"And I want you to cook the dinner tonight as well, so I expect you to bring me a menu when you are done with your chores." she paused to take a sip of her tea. "Run along now, I have no further use of you."

Cinderella bowed her head and left the room quietly.

- - -

She hummed to herself cheerily as she swept the hallway, the broom moving to the rhythm of her song. Drizella and Anastasia were having a shouting match in the library, as usual, during their study time. Her stepmother had left the room for a few moments, and already they were in an argument. Cinderella simply shook her head and continued singing to herself quietly.

"Mother! I don't see why I have to study with Drizella. She's simply a distraction!" Anastasia stormed out of the library, throwing her papers in the air dramatically. Cinderella sighed and set her broom against the wall, bending down to attend to the pile of papers that still fluttered to the floor in every which direction.

"Did you hear what she said, mother?" Drizella stomped from the library, leaving dusty footprints on Anastasia's arithmetic sheets and nearly stepping on Cinderella's fingers. "She's infuriatingly ignorant!"

"Someone's been studying vocabulary…" Cinderella muttered as she yanked a sheet of paper from beneath Drizella's overlarge foot.

"What did you say, rat?" Drizella screamed at her.

"Nothing, nothing. Don't mind me." Cinderella smiled triumphantly as her stepsister gasped. Anastasia snickered and was promptly jabbed in the rib by Drizella's elbow.

"OW!"

"Mother! Cinderella--"

"Girls, please!" a stern voice silenced them both.

The hall fell into silence except for the clack of Lady Tremaine's high-heeled shoes as she approached. Cinderella continued to retrieve papers from the floor, and her stepsisters burst into complaints once more, only to be silence with a shout from their mother.

"I want you both to return to the library and study for the next two hours _without_ interruption."

"But Cinderella--" Drizella began.

"Cinderella is completing her chores as she was _instructed_ to do so. I suggest you both do the same and get back into that room this instant!" the girls nodded silently and turned to leave with a mumbled consent.

Cinderella handed the messy pile of papers back to Anastasia, barely able to suppress the grin that spread on her face. She took the broom and continued sweeping, humming her tune cheerfully.

"What, may I ask, is the reason for this gaiety?" her stepmother's voice jarred suddenly in her ears; she'd forgotten the woman was still standing in the hallway.

"Nothing, La--Stepmother." She held the broom still and looked down. Her face flushed as she stumbled precariously on the name. Cinderella's stepmother showed no signs of noticing and simply took a step forward.

"That broom of yours looks a bit tattered." Her stepmother examined the bristles and the handle carefully. "You'll be wanting to make a new one. I want you to be as efficient as possible today especially. I can't have you missing anything simply because of the sad state of that broom." Cinderella was silent, taken aback at the quiet, soft tone of her stepmother's voice. "Have you the menu for this evening?"

She fished the piece of paper from a pocket in her apron and handed it over to the eager fingers. Her stepmother's eyes scanned the list, and her face showed no expression of disappointment.

"Yes. Very well. Change the main course meat to turkey and that shall do just fine." she shoved the list back into Cinderella's hands.

"We have no turkey."

"Today is market day. I expect you to return with the best turkey on sale." She pulled a coin purse from a small pocket that was nearly hidden in the elegant fabric of her gown. She pulled a wad of currency from it and handed it to Cinderella with a stern expression on her face. "This is more than you'll need. I want you to stop by Harry's and inquire after a chef and waiter to hire for the evening."

"Oh, but Stepmother, I can cook and serve just as well--"

"I want a respectable looking waiter and the best chef he has to offer, you understand?" she widened her eyes threateningly. "I expect to be paid back in full by the end of this week." Her stepmother turned on her heel and shut the door to her room loudly.

Cinderella sighed and finished sweeping the hallway in silence.

- - -

Market day was an extremely busy day, even for such a small town. Shops and vendors of every variety crammed themselves all along Main Street, and they stayed for an entire week. This particular week was renowned for miles around, which meant the crowd was enormous due to the tourists. It was easy to become lost in such a bustle of people even if one knew the street front and back, and Cinderella quickly found herself bumped and shoved in the wrong direction.

She peered above the heads of people around her, but the crowd was packed into the street so tightly, she barely had room to stand on her tiptoes. Unfamiliar faces swirled about her, and she soon became frantic, sweating despite the chill November air. Two firm hands suddenly pressed against her shoulders, and she found herself being guided through the crowd. She cried out in surprise, trying to twist her head around to see who was responsible.

"You're much too short to be trying to fight this crowd, Gwyn." A familiar voice spoke loudly next to her ear above the din of blended vendors' calls and tourists' muddled conversations.

"Abram!" she cried out, finally relieved to hear a voice she knew, and her heart had mostly calmed its frantic pulse as they reached the small area behind the line of vendor carts. Cinderella beamed up at Abram, reveling in the comfort of his familiar face. "Thank you…I never would have made it through that crowd."

"Did I help you reach your destination?" he smiled as she glanced around at the shops lining the road.

"Well, we're on the wrong side of the street, but at least we aren't in that crowd." she smiled into his face, and would have been content to stay there forever, but Abram laughed and turned her towards the crowd again with his hands pressed on her thin shoulders.

They were making steady progress. Abram seemed to know just how to squeeze both of them into the small breaks in between groups of tourists, and they inched forward, barely touching those around them. A blush crept up her cheeks as Abram pulled her away from an oncoming vegetable cart, her back firmly pressed against his torso. She chanced a glance behind her and saw the determined expression on his face, wondering whether he noticed the cool touch of her fingers against his warm hand. His expression did not falter, and she was forced to look away as he urged her forward again.

"Make way!" A man shouted with a booming voice that carried far even over the immense noise of the crowd.

Heads turned toward the voice, and people stopped in their tracks in front of Cinderella and Abram, halting any further movement.

"Make way for the King!"

Gasps were heard all throughout, and an awed hush fell over every head in the street, even the vendors quieted, who temporarily ceased their enthusiastic shouts to draw customers. The crowd surged, pushing and shoving to move to the farthest sides of the street.

Cinderella's heart jumped as she found herself caught up in a flow of people, and she turned to find Abram gone. She looked about frantically, but saw no sign of his figure above the heads short enough for her to peer over. She stuck out her elbows and moved forcefully past an eager group of tourists, gasping for air once she released herself from the tight throng of people. Cinderella looked up and was relieved to find herself on the right side of the street. She walked to the wooden boardwalk that was elevated above the mud for rainy days, and peering above the vendors' tents, her eyes soon fell on the elaborately dressed carriage that was stopped at the end of the street, awaiting a clear passage.

Four pearl-white horses, each groomed to perfection with glimmering coats and braided manes, tapped their hooves anxiously, awaiting a signal from the driver. The coachman and footman had matching uniforms with delicate stitches of gold and blue that accentuated their fine tailored coats. With an expert snap of a whip, the coachman led the carriage along at a slow trot.

The wheels of the carriage were made of the finest ivory and seemed to ride as smoothly as if the curricle itself were gliding above the rough, muddy ground. The rest of the carriage was a pale blue with a gold tassel that trimmed the very top and twirled in delicate designs all over the box. The door was painted gold with an ivory handle and a clear glass window. A heavily jeweled hand waved delicately and lazily from inside the dark carriage. The King had made his entrance and impressed many, and the coachman whipped the horses into a steady gallop back to the palace as soon as they reached the end of Main Street.

The street immediately returned to the chaotic and noisy state as before, and the conversation among the tourists spoke highly of the King and his immense riches, while the people of the town spoke in a different light.

"Always has to make a show, doesn't he?"

"Show off!" A young boy at the edge of the crowd kicked the dust emphatically and stuck his tongue out at the disappearing carriage.

"Why don't he put good use to that money instead of squandering it on that ugly contraption?" The woman who spoke turned and left the crowd, her friends following along and agreeing with further comments of their own.

Cinderella's eyes followed the shrinking figure of the King's carriage and smiled, finding herself agreeing wholeheartedly with the woman. She shook her head and looked around at the bustle of noisy people in the crowd, but still saw no sign of Abram. She sighed and made her way to Harry's, shivering as a breeze nearly blew the shawl from her shoulders.

"Ah, Cinderella! Good to see you." Harry greeted her warmly as she entered the shop. "I trust you are well?"

"Very well, thank you." she smiled faintly, surprised that he remembered her name even though she'd only been in the shop once before.

"You'll be wanting a chef and a waiter for the evening, I presume?"

"Why…yes. That is exactly what I need." She was surprised, realizing that all the rumors of Harry's splendid memory were true, for she had required a chef and waiter the last she had been in the shop.

"Ah yes…" Harry looked down and flipped through a few pages of a logbook. "This is our busiest time of year, but your stepmother will be requiring the best, I'm sure."

"Yes, always." Cinderella muttered.

She watched fascinated as he flipped through the logbook, scanning the pages in a matter of seconds despite the lengthy entries and lists of names written on each page.

"Have you a menu?" he looked up suddenly, holding out his hand as she nodded and placed the paper in his hand. His eyes flitted down the page and he tapped his chin for a few moments. "Aha!" he called out, and she jumped in surprise. "Clarence is an exquisite chef, and he specializes in the most delicately flavored turkey dishes. He will do just nicely. As for the waiter, I do think that Bernard is free for the evening. What time will you be dining?"

"Seven o' clock."

"Clarence will be there at six, and Bernard will arrive at precisely six-thirty. The chef will provide the turkey, but all other ingredients must be provided."

"Thank you, sir!" she smiled warmly, relieved she would not have to fight the crowd to buy a turkey at the general store on the other side of the street. She handed him an ample amount of money before heading out the door in high spirits.

She took a short cut away from Main Street and found herself on the road home. Cinderella hummed to herself cheerily despite the soreness of her feet and the long distance she had to walk home. She nearly forgot about the disappearance of Abram until she heard hoof beats behind her. She quickly moved off the side of the road, turning slowly to see who approached. Cinderella's eyes widened as she took in the sight of Abram riding bareback on the most magnificent black horse she had ever seen. She let out a gasp as Abram slowed the horse expertly with a click of his tongue.

"Where did you go?" she said as she looked up into his pleasant face and could not help wondering at how regal he looked atop the dusty black stallion. "I turned and you were gone."

"I remembered my time limit in the stable of one hour was almost over, and I had to retrieve him before I owed more than double the original price. The stables are extremely full today."

"I see." Cinderella was determined to believe him, but the state of his horse led her to believe otherwise.

The mane and tail were tangled and dust covered the sleek black coat of the horse. The grooms hired at the Main Street Stables would have given this superb horse a full service of grooming and cleaning. She shook the thoughts from her mind and did not allow any suppositions to grow. Surely Abram would not steal a horse? She watched as he absently patted the side of the horse's neck, and she noticed the expertise and familiarity he'd shown in controlling it.

Surely not…

"I will not allow you to walk the rest of the way home, Gwyn. It is much too far for a lady such as yourself." He seemed to be mocking her, but his expression was sincere.

"I thank you for the offer, but I think it would be best if I wasn't seen riding in with you. People would talk, and word travels fast." She couldn't believe the nonsense that was spilling out of her mouth. She had every reason not to ride with him, yet reason failed her when she looked into his pleading expression.

"I understand." he paused and seemed to gather his thoughts, but he sighed and looked away. "And you are busy all evening?"

"My stepmother invited guests for the evening, though she won't allow me to cook or serve. I will most likely be doing chores the rest of the day."

"Then I shall see you later." he smiled playfully and directed his horse to turn back towards the road.

"Oh, no, you mustn't! If Stepmother should see--"

"She won't." He grinned as she stuttered, searching for another excuse. "I'm off!" he clicked his tongue and the horse bolted into a steady gallop down the road.

She smiled faintly as she watched him disappear behind a bend in the road, anticipation growing with every footstep that took her closer to home.

- - -

**And just to make up for being gone so long, I will end here with saying that this has to be the longest chapter yet.**

**More still to come!**

**Don't neglect me...leave reviews, please!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Another update?**

**My word, what have I done?!**

**Soon you'll get used to all these updates and you'll just be asking for more and more and more until I have no summer left! **

**Golly gee. How could you do that to a person?**

**I do have a life, you know.**

**No, really…I do.**

**Disclaimer****: Cinderella, her awful stepsisters, and the Stepmother all belong to Disney. The reminder of the stepmother's name being Lady Tremaine belongs to an anonymous reviewer named Holly. Thanks Holly!**

**The names Dupree and Gwyn belong to my beloved Soybean. Thank you!**

**Yes. It's taken 5 chapters to finally give some credit where it's due.**

**Claimer:**** I own the plot for once! Huzzah!!**

**Dream Come True**

- - -

Chapter 5

- - -

"They're here! They're here!" Drizella waved her arms about excitedly as she peered through the main hall window.

"Calm yourself, Drizella. Come stand by your sister and straighten the wrinkles you made in that gown." Lady Tremaine inspected Anastasia's puce gown and Drizella's new yellow gown, shaking her head and attempting to straighten the ungraceful frizzy curls piled on each girl's head. "I expect you both to be poised and polite. My brother has traveled a long way, and he has brought his youngest son along." She raised her eyebrows and clasped her hands against her maroon gown with black lace.

Anastasia and Drizella exchanged gleeful expressions, and Cinderella simply rolled her eyes. Her stepmother took a hasty step in her direction and she snapped into a straight posture.

"You have already failed me once in getting a suitable waiter, and since I was forced to allow you to serve, I expect you not to be an embarrassment." Protests rose in Cinderella's throat at her stepmother's false accusations, but she merely nodded and looked away.

First of all, her stepmother was not "allowing" Cinderella to serve at all. She was being forced against her will, and was even required to wear the simplest black cotton dress with a plain white apron. Secondly, she had no control over the fact that the waiter Harry had hired for her decided to show up at the kitchen drunk and incapable of standing, much less serving beverages. Cinderella snapped out of her brief moment of brooding as Drizella let out another shriek of excitement when footsteps were heard on the porch.

"Answer the door, girl." her stepmother hissed threateningly.

Cinderella stepped quickly to the large oak door and opened it slowly, the large hinges groaning and in great need of oiling. She knew that particular chore would be added onto her list for tomorrow.

"Welcome! Please, do come inside where it's warm." She smiled cordially as her stepmother's brother and nephew stepped across the threshold, and she closed the door quickly behind them before the cold air swept into the hall.

"Dearest sister!" her step-uncle called in a booming voice as he tossed his large wool coat, top hat, and cane into Cinderella's arms. The tall man took no notice of her, but simply stepped towards Lady Tremaine with a sweeping bow and kissed her outstretched hand. "Pray tell, who are these lovely girls? Certainly not the toddlers I saw last…my how they've grown!"

Her stepmother let out a rusty laugh as Cinderella's step-uncle babbled on and on with useless flattery. She cringed inwardly at the beaming smiles on Anastasia and Drizella's faces as they curtseyed awkwardly and displayed their finest acts of modesty. She turned and hung her step-uncle's belongings on the simple coat rack next to the door silently, trying to ignore the way her stepmother's simpers and sad attempts at laughing grated jarringly against her brother's hearty chuckle.

It was only after Cinderella turned to take the coat of the silent nephew that she realized he'd been staring at her since she opened the door to receive them. His eyes were lit with an expression she did not wish to know the thoughts behind. He stared at her with a smirk as his eyes traveled up and down her figure. She blushed uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

"Might I take your coat, sir?" her voice squeaked, so unaccustomed as she was to so much attention.

The nephew unbuttoned his fur coat slowly, slipping it off to reveal an elaborately stitched silk suit that was fitted against his tall slim body. He took off his high top hat revealing short golden locks of hair and placed the coat and hat into her arms. He grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her a step closer to him, his dull blue-gray eyes burning into her face.

"Sir--" her voice was merely a whisper.

"Charming…" his voice drawled in a lazy tone from his thin lips, and her heart thundered heavy and hot in her cheeks. She looked away, but he tightened his hold painfully on her wrist, his youthful face showing intense amusement.

"Anastasia, Drizella, show our guests to the dining room." her stepmother's cutting voice was never a more relieving sound to Cinderella.

She wrenched her wrist from his hold and quickly stacked his things on the hat rack. The nephew smirked in a most disgusting manner before he turned to follow his father into the dining room. Cinderella stood by the hat rack cradling her sore wrist against her pounding chest, taking deep breaths to calm her fried nerves. Her stepmother stepped close behind her.

"I will not have you embarrassing me in front of my own family." She looked up to see the meaningful warning in her stepmother's eyes, and nodded slowly. "Now bring in the first dish of food. We are all hungry."

Cinderella burst into the kitchen and startled Clarence as he stood hovering over the stove, attempting to heat it to the right temperature.

"Ready for the first dish?" he picked up a platter from the wooden cooling rack that held appetizers.

"Yes, thank you…" her voice trembled slightly, and Clarence looked up at her with concern.

"Something wrong, Miss?"

Cinderella looked into his portly smiling face and shook her head silently. She certainly wouldn't be sharing her woes with a chef. Her stomach growled as she took the platter of appetizers upon her shoulder, hoping the chef had kept an extra plate for herself.

"I'll have the main course ready when you return, Miss." he was bent over the stove with his eyes on the large boiling pot, and she mumbled a thank you before leaving the warm room reluctantly.

Cinderella took deep breaths before she opened the door to the dining hall. The sound of loud chatter reached her ears as she entered. She was forced to walk around the table and offer the food to each person. She kept her eyes glued to the platter and dared not meet the intense gaze the nephew was bestowing on her, watching her every move.

"Do not place that smelly food in my face! You know I don't care for crab meat." Drizella hissed at her, and upon receiving a dangerous glare from Lady Tremaine, she quickly added with a glower, "I mean, no _thank_ you, Cinderella."

Anastasia grabbed a handful of the finger foods and stuffed each one of them in her mouth with a greedy lick of her lips. Cinderella rolled her eyes as she watched each girl bat their eyelashes and smile flirtatiously at the nephew, who took absolutely no notice of them. She bent close to her stepmother, who nibbled daintily on the appetizer as she pretended to laugh at another of her brother's tiresome stories.

"When will you be wanting the drinks and the main course, Stepmother?"

"Bring them at once. We shall be wanting the sherry and the port, yes?" she looked to her nephew and brother who nodded in agreement.

She returned with both shoulders occupied by a large platter, but she managed to keep her balance without spilling a drop of the drinks. She administered the drinks and the main course meat silently and was thankful to leave the room as quickly as possible to return both the empty platters.

"Do they like my cooking?" Clarence asked eagerly as she stepped back into the kitchen.

"Yes, indeed. They all had praises on their lips when they tasted the turkey." her stomach growled involuntarily as the delicious smell of the turkey still hung in the air.

Clarence laughed and pulled something from behind his back. Cinderella's eyes fell on a steaming plate of the same mouth-watering meal she had just administered to her stepfamily.

"Oh…oh thank you!" she took the plate with a wide smile and sat down at her small writing desk, savoring every bite of the tender turkey as it passed her lips.

She looked up as Clarence pulled up a chair beside her with a plate of the same food in his hands. They instantly began a conversation, mostly of small talk and pleasantries, but still very enjoyable. She discovered Clarence to be quite the family man. He was still married to the same woman after forty-three years, and they had seven children together. He made his living wholly on his delectable cooking abilities, and was able to maintain a higher quality life style than most of the local chefs simply off of the kindness of his employer.

Clarence listened attentively even when she told her small and seemingly unimportant story, and she was saddened to see him leave. He trusted she would distribute the desserts on her own and receive much praise for that as well. She hoped to see him some other time, and promised to hire him the next time they held a party. He smiled and kissed her hand gently.

"You have a beautiful spirit, my dear girl. I wish you long life and health."

"Why Clarence, you talk as if we shall never see one another again! I will ask for you in particular the next time my stepmother decides to hold another dinner party."  
"Thank you, child." he smiled and waved a cheery goodbye as he left.

Cinderella sighed and stared at the closed door that had shut behind her newest friend. Her eyes fell to a small cloth bag by the door, and smiled when she discovered its contents. Extra turkey and appetizers wrapped in cloth. The food she placed in the ice box, and nearly forgot about the duty she had to accomplish. She took the empty trays and made her way slowly back to the dining hall to pick up the dirty dishes.

"What took you, child?" Her stepmother greeted her with a glare as she entered the room. "We've been waiting for our dessert for some time now."

"My apologies." she bowed slightly and moved to pick up the dishes.

"Please, let me help." the nephew stood with a grin and grabbed the plate from Cinderella's hands roughly.

"How kind." her stepmother smiled, but it looked more like a snarl.

Cinderella's thoughts screamed in protest, but not even the horrified expressions on her stepsisters' faces could be of any comfort. She was helpless.

"I really can manage--" she began fruitlessly.

"No, no." The nephew's mouth bent into a twisted smirk, "It's too much for you to carry all by yourself."

"There! My good boy, how kind! Did you ever meet such a helpful boy in your life, girls?" Her step-uncle addressed Anastasia and Drizella who shook their heads silently, glaring menacingly at Cinderella.

If only they knew she'd be just as glad to leave the nephew to sit beneath their meaningful glances and flirty comments…

She was forced to exit the room alone with the nephew close behind her, carrying a tray of his own piled with dishes. Once in the hallway far away from the noise of the dining hall, he addressed her close to her ear.

"I've wanted to get you alone since I first laid eyes on you, my sweet." His breath smelled strongly of sherry, but she quickened her pace with determined footsteps toward the kitchen.

She set the dishes in the metal tub with a loud clatter and ignored the nephew's approach by kneeling down, keeping her eyes fixated on the dishes. He chuckled playfully and grabbed her forearm tightly.

"Cinderella, is it? What a charming name for a mouse such as you." he pulled her roughly to her feet. "Much too skinny for my taste, and the hair is much too bushy, but the face--" he curled his finger beneath her chin and tilted her face towards the candlelight. "There now. The light of the candle does soften those high cheekbones…and how your eyes do sparkle!" his eyes glittered madly.

"They'll be wanting the dessert platter now." her voice shook involuntarily as she looked into his face, feeling very much like a tiny helpless mouse under the tall shadow of the man before her. "Would you be kind enough to take it to them?"

"Oh, tosh. I care nothing for my frivolous aunt…especially not for her ignorant, foolhardy daughters. Their appearance does not meet the shining beauty of those blue eyes and the glowing tone of your skin!" his grip tightened on her arm painfully as he pulled her towards him.

"That is quite enough, Sir." she twisted her arm from his hand and turned on her heel, grabbing the bucket on her way out the door. She almost broke into a run once the cool air chilled the sweat on her brow, but she knew it would be useless once his footsteps and droll voice carried from the doorway.

"Now where can you be off to? Don't tell me you're playing hard to get, little mouse…" she cringed in fear, her hands trembling against the handle of the bucket as he followed closely behind her.

"I am going to get water for the dishes. Please, sir, return to your family!" she shouted over her shoulder, but his grin widened and he jolted forward, grabbing her sore wrist in his painful vise once more.

"I have no desire to return to that dull party. I'd much rather enjoy myself provoking you!" he pulled her closer to him slowly as a malicious glint gleamed in his eyes.

Cinderella looked around hopelessly in the darkness, knowing her screams would not reach far, and she remembered what her stepmother had told her…it would make a scene. She would be punished harshly. But as she looked up into his gleaming face, she preferred her own safety to the embarrassment she would cause her stepfamily.

"This is not proper!" she turned her face away and tugged at her wrist, but called out in pain as he squeezed it even tighter between his long bony fingers.

"Do not resist me, girl! Behind that pretty shy face of yours is a mind that cannot defy me--"

"No! You do not know my thoughts, Sir." she leaned away from him with all of her weight, but he held fast and brought his other hand to the back of her neck squeezing it painfully.

Cinderella's vision swam before her. She was dimly aware of the sound of hoof beats and a familiar voice, and the hand that held her neck was released. She found herself lying on the ground looking up at two dim figures under the moon. One was tall and demeaning, his thin fingers trembling beside him as a shorter, stockier figure stood before him. The taller figure's brow was covered in the damp locks of his sandy blond hair stuck fast in the sweat that spilled down his temples. The shorter man…Abram.

She watched, the only sound she heard was the pounding of blood in her ears. Abram stared defiantly into the nephew's face and said not a word. The nephew leaned his head back to let out a nervous laugh, but Cinderella's world was silent. She watched as Abram spoke, and the taller man stepped back, his face falling from the conceited prideful expression into one of cowardice. He turned on his heel and walked quickly back into the kitchen without another word. She watched him go with a wonderful sensation of relief washing over her.

"Gwyn?" Cinderella looked up at the sound of Abram's voice.

He was kneeling beside her, cradling the back of her neck gently and looking worriedly into her face.

"Oh, Gwyn, what harm did he deal you?" he put an arm around her waist and lifted her to a sitting position.

"None too great…" she winced as she put her hand back to balance herself.

Abram took her swollen wrist in his hand gently and kissed it. "Where else did he hurt you?"

She moved her other hand up her arm to find the swollen imprint of fingers. Her face was still flushed from the kiss he'd placed upon her wrist, so she merely shook her head, denying any other injuries.

"I shall expect harsh punishment for this from my stepmother…for he must have told them by now--and she might even come looking for me now! Oh, you must go--"

"No." he shook his head, silencing all further argument from her. "I took care of that gentleman. I am certain he will have made up some excuse or other. Your stepfamily never enters the kitchen, am I correct?"

"Yes, but--"

"Good." Abram helped her to her feet and grabbed her uninjured hand, leading her through the door into the kitchen.

Upon entering, Cinderella hurried to the other door and pressed her ear against it, listening to the conversations in the main hall.

"It was a pleasure having you here, dear brother."

"And it was a pleasure being here!" Cinderella's step-uncle answered with a booming laugh. Abram walked up the steps quietly behind her, and she motioned for him to be silent, pointing towards the door with a smile.

"It is a shame about that waitress of yours, though." the nephew scoffed. "Spilled the whole platter of desserts and she had to remake them all over again."

"Is _that_ what took you so long?" Anastasia cried out, but the nephew took no notice and continued.

"You really must choose who you hire carefully, my dear Aunt."

"Yes, she is quite the oaf, is she not?" her stepmother replied with a soft, awkward chuckle.

Cinderella could not suppress the grin that spread across her face, and she laughed out loud once the family had gone out the door to see their guests off.

"I suppose you took care of my step-cousin, Abram." she smiled, but her face fell as she heard the carriage clatter by outside, and she spoke softly, "And I suppose I shall have to be eternally grateful…for you always seem to be there when I am in need." she watched his expressions change, unable to read so many different emotions at once, and he finally sighed, frustrated.

"Where else would I be?" he moved forward to embrace her, but held back. "Gwyn, I--I can't always be here. I would love to be…always. Because it's never enough, but, oh--" he pulled her suddenly into a tight embrace, his voice vibrating against her ear. "I have to go. I don't want to, but I'm afraid there's no choice." he pulled apart and put his hands on her shoulders, staring her straight in the eye. "Please don't forget me?"

She smiled faintly. "Never."

"See me off, then?"

"Of course!" she followed him outside to where his horse was tethered and watched as he whispered softly in the ear of the horse and pat its neck lovingly.

Abram bent down to wash his face in the water trough. The horse shook its matted mane with a snort, pushing its nose persistently against his shoulder, nearly knocking him over.

"Yes, yes, we are leaving soon, Dupree…" the horse would hear none of it, however, and stomped its feet with impatience.

"What a delightful horse!" Cinderella laughed as she moved forward and rubbed the horse's neck.

"Delightful?" Abram looked up with an indignant expression after he dried his face. "He's a nuisance, that's what he is."

Cinderella pressed her hands against the horse's ears playfully, "You don't listen to him, Dupree. I think you a wonderfully handsome creature." she placed her arms around the horse's neck and rested her head against Dupree's soft black hair with a sigh.

"I've never seen him stand so still in his life…" Abram spoke behind her in awe. "He's usually so rambunctious."

"I must have something they like about me," Cinderella's voice was muffled in the horse's fur, "for I'm all skin and bones. My bony elbows must be terribly uncomfortable," she stepped back from the horse and patted his neck absently, "but they never seem to complain." She turned and met Abram's soft eyes with a wary expression.

"I have to go." he said after a pause. He moved forward, took her hand in his, and kissed it. "Goodbye, Gwyn." he gave her one last smile before alighting on his grand horse.

Dupree pranced about delightfully at the prospect of an evening ride. Abram turned to speak, but the horse jolted forward into a steady gallop towards the gate.

"Damnable horse!" Abram shouted, the last words Cinderella heard as she waved to him.

It was glee that filled her heart, not misery, as she watched the figure and the black horse disappear into the shadows of evening.

- - -

**Yay happy? **

**Ah well…I tried. At least it's not a hugemungous cliffie or something. **

**Cause that would just be downright mean!**

**Yeah.**

**Loves, leave some love!!**

**Um…I mean reviews.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yay! Another update.**

**I've really appreciated all the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry this update had to wait a while--I was at bandcamp!**

**What fun…**

**Anyway, this chapter is a little bit shorter since it's more of a transition.**

**Hope you enjoy it anyway!**

**Disclaimer: Cinderella belongs to Disney. This plot however, is mine. MINE ALL MINE! HA!**

**-ahem-**

**Read.**

- - -

Chapter 6

- - -

Snowflakes fell from the sky in large clumps and stuck to her eyelashes as she looked above her with a smile. Winter was her favorite season. Well, it did have its drawbacks. The amount of firewood required by her stepmother was monstrous, and Cinderella was constantly forced to run into the chill air for more. It was hard enough to keep the supply of firewood caught up with the demand of her stepfamily, but she was also asked for hot cider and eggnog morning, evening, and any time her stepsisters felt the slightest hint of a cold draught of air.

Even her stepmother caused grief by adding twice the amount of chores to Cinderella's already growing list. She now had to shovel the snow from the porch and the cobblestones all the way to the gate. Cinderella always found this a tiresome, fruitless effort, for her stepsisters and Lady Tremaine never asked for a carriage into town during the winter.

Cinderella was the only being who left the house at all. The rest of the family stayed cooped up indoors almost all winter, and barely ever left their rooms. It was her busiest season, and the bells in the kitchen never ceased their monotonous ringing. The house rarely lapsed into silence even when the rest of the town slept, for Anastasia and Drizella constantly rang for her at all hours of the night asking for their fires to be built up.

Cinderella sighed, remembering why she had left the house to begin with. She had just enough firewood stacked against the house to heat all three bedrooms and possibly save a log or two for the kitchen. She hurried upstairs with a heavy pile of wood nearly toppling from her arms.

"Where have you been? I have been ringing for you for ages!" Drizella screeched at her as she entered.

Cinderella remained silent as she piled the logs into the fireplace, reveling in the brief moment of warmth as she stood before the blazing flames.

"I'll want more wood in an hour or so. Those logs do burn a trifle fast." Drizella mumbled as she pulled out her study books reluctantly and pretended to read the passages before her.

"Yes, Drizella."

Anastasia shouted the same accusations, and Cinderella kept quiet, only pausing to say absentmindedly, "Yes, Anastasia" before she moved to Lady Tremaine's room.

Her stepmother was dozing propped up against an outrageous pile of pillows with a book folded across her lap. She did not wake as Cinderella piled more logs in the fire, and she was able to breathe freely upon exiting the room.

The kitchen was ice cold, and she shivered, discovering the fire had burned out completely. She walked across the threadbare carpet and quickly placed two small logs onto the grate, lighting it with a quick flick of the match. Her eyes fell to the bare carpet, and it was only then she noticed the absence of her dearest animal friend, Bruno. She looked about the kitchen into the dark corners, but discovered them empty as the firelight slowly grew and expanded. Cinderella grabbed her cloak with a trembling hand. Bruno never stayed out long…especially not in the winter.

"Bruno?" the cried through the howling wind and scoured the snow-covered ground, squinting against the bright white that met her eyes.

The morning sun was just topping the tree line, and it glittered magnificently against the sparkling ice crystals. The brown of the stable and chicken coops contrasted drastically against the colorless ground and sky. A sound reached her ears, and she turned, gasping in horror.

"Bruno!" she ran quickly towards the dog that had collapsed in the snow, his mouth open and panting for air.

He wagged his tail bravely for a few moments as she approached, but he whimpered pitifully as it seemed to use too much energy. She fell to her knees on the ground and placed her arms around him and cried out as she felt his cold skin. He was as cold as the snow itself. Cinderella took her cloak off and gently wrapped it around his chilled body. She stood without effort for Bruno had been reduced to skin and bones. She brought him before the fire in the kitchen.

"Oh you poor thing…" she wrapped her arms around his trembling body, pulling the cloak about them both. "You poor, silly dog." a lump formed in her throat as the dog groaned softly and shivered beneath his damp fur.

She curled up on the floor next to Bruno and sighed as the fire warmed the tips of her fingers and toes. She kept her arms about the trembling dog as she slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

- - -

The erratic ringing of bells interrupted the black unconsciousness of her thoughts. She sat up with a start, waking Bruno from his soft snores of a dreamless sleep. He looked up at her with bright, alert eyes, and his tail wagged playfully as she stood up. She patted him on the head, thankful for his sudden renewed health. Cinderella plugged her ears as she was forced to walk closer to the shrill servant bells that nearly shook themselves from the wall. She dropped a plate of leftover turkey on the floor, and Bruno ate it heartily in a few gulps.

"Cinderella!" her stepsisters cried from their rooms upstairs as she exited the kitchen.

"I'm coming…hold your horses." she muttered, making her way up the steps quickly.

She was met with an unpleasant torrent of screams and protests as her stepsisters each burst out of their rooms.

"Where have you been, you little wench?"

"I've been freezing out of my own skin!"

"Where's my firewood?"

"I want eggnog!"

"I asked for it first!!"

"Nuh uh, you liar--"

"_Silence!_" Lady Tremaine's cutting voice raised above all the others. "I have to ask, Cinderella, what you would do if you were to lose this job?"

"Well, I--I don't know what I would do, Stepmother, but why--"

"Because you will soon lose it if you ever leave the house like that again." her stepmother put a hand up to silence Anastasia and Drizella's snickers as well as Cinderella's protests. "I have been more than generous in giving you such an honored position in this house. You would do well to improve before I send you out into the streets, is that clear?"

"Yes, Stepmother." Cinderella looked down, afraid to meet her stepmother's glare.

"Now, first you will get each of us a nice warm cup of eggnog, and then we will all need more firewood in our rooms. And lastly, you will shovel the driveway again until not a speck of snow is left on the cobblestones." Cinderella waited for more instructions while her stepsisters returned to their rooms. "Well, get to it! You don't have all evening."

Cinderella fixed the eggnog and cider and built up the fires quickly, for her stepmother was right--she was losing light and would no longer be able to see well enough to shovel.

She said goodbye to Bruno before putting on a ragged winter coat and gloves with holes in the fingers. The winter air bit through her thin coat viciously, but it wasn't long before she was completely numbed to the cold. She could no longer tell whether her fingers were holding the shovel's ice-cold handle, and she nearly dropped it numerous times. After a while, the snow slowed its steady descent to the ground, and she managed to clean the ground completely of snow, as her stepmother had asked for specifically.

She paused once, leaning on the handle of the shovel and staring up into the clearest night sky she'd ever seen. The stars twinkled cheerily down at her, but she could not feel their warmth as the air grew cold with night. The half moon seemed to grin at her, and she managed to pull her chapped and frozen lips into a small smile before she finished shoveling.

A bell was ringing as she stepped into the warm kitchen. She sighed, and made her way slowly up the steps to Drizella's room.

"Oh--" she coughed and sniffed pitifully, "I am coming down with the worst chill! I shall need a doctor at once."

"Yes, Drizella. I shall go into town as quickly as I can--"

"And hurry!" she put a hand to her forehead dramatically, "I fell the room spinning! Oooh…"

Cinderella ignored her stepsister's moans as she left the room. She put on her coat reluctantly, and stepped out into the night air with a shiver.

As she reached main street, her eyes fell on the empty lane and abandoned store fronts. The small corner shop where the doctor used to be was completely empty. It had been so long since she had needed the assistance of a doctor. Drizella and Anastasia came down with small chills every year during the winter, but Drizella seemed to have caught a worse case than usual.

Cinderella looked around at the sound of an approaching horse, and she looked up to see a man driving a small horse and cat. He was not much older than herself, and she raised a hand to him, signaling a halt.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you know where the nearest doctor is? The office used to be over there, but apparently he's moved…"

"You're in luck." he looked at her with a bland expression on his face as he glanced up and down her thin figure and ragged coat with disapproval. "I happen to be the town doctor. Thomas retired, but I assure you I am just as experienced, if not better, than that old codger." He sat up straighter in his seat, and Cinderella found she disliked his prideful, conceited personality.

"Is it much too inconvenient to drive back to my home?" She asked reluctantly, wondering if she should just wait until she could find another physician.

"Not at all!" he pointed to the rear of the cart. Cinderella stared at him for a moment, wondering whether he noticed how much room there was in the driver's bench--certainly enough for her skinny figure to fit, but she did not protest and simply jumped into the back.

"Where is your home?" the man faced forward, not for one instant looking back at her.

"The seventh entrance on the left."

"And what is the ailment, may I ask?"

"Just a winter chill, but my sister is determined to think it more serious case." she shifted uncomfortably against the hard wooden crates that were most likely packed with medical supplies.

Their conversation fell into silence. They pulled onto the cobblestones and halted in front of the main entrance. Cinderella jumped down and waited for the doctor to follow. Instead, he simply looked around, his hands still poised on the reigns.

"Where is your stable boy? I do not wish to leave my horse in the cold." Cinderella could not believe how selfish this gentleman was. Weren't doctors supposed to care about heir patients above themselves?

"If you'll wait here, sir, I shall put your horse away." She unhooked the horse from the cart and led it gently to the stable by its bridle. "Keep him company, Delbert." she patted the horse's head as she placed fresh oats in a box.

The doctor had stepped down from his carriage with a black bag in his hand, looking about him with the same disapproval as he had with her.

"This way, sir."

Once inside, she took him quickly to Drizella's room.

"You brat! What took you--" Drizella's eyes widened as they fell on the doctor. She fell back against the pillows and broke into a fit of coughing, her plain face twisting into a pained expression.

Cinderella simply raised her eyebrows skeptically at her stepsister as the doctor stepped forward to check Drizella's pulse. Her stepsister's cheeks blushed furiously as the doctor took her wrist and placed two fingers on it.

"Your pulse is a little high, but I'm sure you'll be just fine." he looked down at his watch, counting silently. "What's your name, girl?" he said absently, never taking his eyes off of his chain watch while Drizella stared up at him with genuine admiration.

Cinderella was surprised to see none of the same fluttering of the eyelashes and giddy mannerisms her stepsister had acquired whenever she desired to grab the attention of a certain gentleman. She watched, taken aback, as Drizella shrank into the pillows, her face glowing in the candlelight, and it almost looked pretty in this light.

"Drizella, sir." her stepsister squeaked.

"Well, Drizella, your pulse seems fine." he looked down into her sheepish expression and chuckled slightly, "Good heavens, girl, no need to be nervous."

The doctor sat on the edge of the bed and opened his bag, pulling out a stethoscope.

Cinderella could not believe her eyes. Drizella was smiling ever so sweetly and gently, and it softened her harsh features. Her stepsister's eyes were filled with warmth as they gazed at the doctor, and drew attention away from her pronounced cheekbones. Even the doctor looked slightly less proud as he sat on the bed with one pale hand around the end of his stethoscope. His features weren't particularly handsome, but his large beak-like nose looked regal in the soft firelight. His small eyes only met Drizella's once or twice, but Cinderella felt a certain sedateness about him, and the coldness of his expression had left completely.

She never thought it was possible…but her stepsister had just fallen in love.

Her stepmother would not be pleased if she knew.

"I do believe you have caught a small winter chill, as your servant told me." he pulled a bottle of off-white liquid from his bag and a spoon. "Take two teaspoons of this with your tea every morning, and I think you shall feel better soon."

Drizella took the bottle from his hand and clutched it to her chest. "Thank you…" she whispered and looked away for the first time since the doctor had entered the room.

"Just call on me if you feel that the medicine is not working soon enough." he handed a business card to Drizella and exited the room.

Cinderella hooked the horse back onto the carriage and waved to the doctor as he left silently. She made her way back into the house, grabbing a few more logs before making her way to Drizella's room. She found her stepsister still sitting on the bed with the bottle clutched in her hands, and she was staring down at the doctor's business card with a faint hint of a smile on her lips.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise." Cinderella placed a log in the fire and walked back over to the edge of the bed.

"Tell anyone what?" Drizella looked up harshly, resuming her usual temperament. "There's nothing _to_ tell. Besides, if there _was--_ which there isn't-- Well, you just mind your own business!" she slammed the bottle and the business card on her bedside table and covered her face with the blanket.

Cinderella nodded silently, and smiled to herself as she shut the door.

After making the rounds of the house--building up fires, distributing eggnog and cider, fluffing pillows-- Cinderella finally sat down in her chair by the kitchen fire with a sigh. Her legs ached from standing the entire day, and her fingers were beginning to blister with so much shoveling she was forced to do.

The servant's bell on the wall rang harshly, making her jump in her seat.

She stood slowly, groaning as her sore feet protested with a painful throb. The dog looked up expectantly as she moved away from the fire. She kissed his head, and he tapped his tail on the floor happily.

"It's going to be a long winter…" she sighed as she made her way upstairs.

- - -

**My social calendar's getting pretty full, so you'll have to enjoy this one for a while.**

**I have no idea when the next update will be, but I promise I won't leave you to die!**

**I just love you too much…**

**-heart-**

**Now leave me some reviews!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi there!**

**I know you've missed me.**

**Hehe…**

**You…have missed me, right?**

**Right.**

**Anyway I was on vacation, for those of you who didn't notice my absence, and I just got back today.**

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, as always. It was a pleasant coming-home gift.**

**Don't let me down!**

**Disclaimer: Disney's mind alone, not mine. This plot came mostly from the third Cinderella, which I have yet to see (but I just don't care for sequels to cartoons)…Anyway. Tell me how it is.**

**Dream Come True**

- - -

Chapter 7

- - -

Cinderella took the axe into her hands and wrapped a wiry arm around the chopping block with a smile on her face. It was officially the last day she would have to use either of them, and she was content to see them put away in a shed until the next winter. The wind was still chilly, and had remained so ever since the snow had finally melted. It was near the middle of April, and Cinderella could feel spring approaching as her riding boots crunched against the last frost of winter.

"Good morning, Delbert!" she entered the stable and cheerfully patted the horse on the head, and he licked her face enthusiastically, nearly knocking her off her feet.

In a strange fit of generosity, her stepmother had given her the entire day off after she finished her chores, which she completed in record time.

"Let's go for a ride." Delbert pranced around in his stall eagerly as she pulled the bridle over his nose.

She placed the saddle gently on his back and alighted in one swift movement. She knew her weight would not be too much for him to carry, for she barely weighed more than the saddle itself. Cinderella readjusted her riding gear, which was in poor shape. It had belonged to her father at one time, and she had to make many alterations before the coat and pants fit properly. Even after numerous hemming jobs, the fabric bunched up near her feet and around her wrists, which made it uncomfortable to sit after periods of time, but she was willing to suffer the uncomfortable chaffing for the sake of her old excited horse.

"Ready?" Delbert stood still, hopping slightly back and forth between his front feet. Cinderella smiled and squeezed her legs together, urging him forward.

Delbert snorted delightedly and began in a steady trot towards the gate. They went the opposite direction of the town, and the roads were empty except for merchant traffic passing by. Cinderella took advantage of Delbert's slow trot and studied the castle as they passed by its wrought iron gates. The white towers were all topped with colorful flags that flapped with the breeze. In the tallest tower, a small window was etched into the side, and Cinderella could distinctly see a figure leaning on its stone sill overlooking the green fields below. She squinted her eyes and moved to bring the horse to a halt to study the gentleman further, but Delbert suddenly broke into a full run off of the road.

"What--Delbert!" she looked about wildly and found they had reached a familiar fork in the road.

It was a small path that broke off from the main road and into a dense forest. They were still technically in the kingdom, for the castle gates went on for miles around the strong fortress along the main road. Cinderella clutched the reigns and bent down close to Delbert's neck, unable to suppress a smile that spread across her face as she felt the horse's determination between every thundering hoof beat. There was no stopping the horse no matter how hard she yelled. She and Delbert went here as often as they had time to when they were both much younger. It was here she ran to escape the news of her father, and the horse somehow remembered the path every time they passed it.

They broke past the line of trees and came into a small clearing with flowing grass and a small sparkling lake. It took her breath every time she came. Delbert came to a halt, his sides heaving. Cinderella jumped off and led him by the reigns for a small walk to cool down. He was certainly not as young as he used to be, and she let him rest after she tied him loosely to a low tree branch.

Cinderella sat on the ground, ignoring the itch of the grass against her hands as she leaned back and gazed up at the gray sky. The sun was hidden behind a thin layer of clouds that broke in parts, allowing the sun to peek through to smile down at her. She sighed contentedly and lay back on the soft ground, the rush of wind through the grass soothing her.

Her eyes unfocused themselves as she stared up into the murky sky, and her thoughts wandered dangerously in too many directions at once, bringing forth too many faces to be recognized as they flit past her mind's eye.

A loud crack of thunder startled her from her thoughts. She sat up and gasped as the sky lit up with a bright flash of lightning. The clouds grew darker suddenly above her, and she scrambled to her feet just as a clean sheet of rain poured from the clouds.

She urged Delbert into a trot across the muddy road, and they were soon home. Cinderella quickly put the horse into the stable, absently forking a few fresh piles of hay into his stable before taking off his gear and bolting out the door. The rain poured down in great torrents with the wind and slapped against her face.

"Oh, drat!" Her eyes fell on the front porch step where a small pile of letters sat, the outer ones soaked from rain at their edges. She quickly picked them up and shoved them beneath her dripping riding gear as she made her way back to the kitchen.

She laid the letters before the fire, hoping her stepmother wouldn't punish her too harshly if they were only slightly damp. She stripped from her soaked gear and quickly put on a dry cotton dress before taking the letters upstairs.

Her stepmother tore the letters from her outstretched hand and flitted through them hurriedly, crying out as she came across one letter in particular. She tore it open, throwing the tattered envelope on the floor. Her eyes scanned the page with eyebrows furrowed.

Cinderella turned to leave, despite her growing curiosity.

"Wait, girl." Lady Tremaine called out, and Cinderella turned slowly to face her stepmother. "I have just received news of my nephew. Apparently he has eloped with a woman of the streets and has not been seen for some months now." Her voice cracked with disapproval, but she straightened and turned her piercing gaze to Cinderella.

"I must attend to this business at once--and I want you to take the girls into town."

"But Stepmother--"

"I don't want to hear any complaints! Take Anastasia and Drizella for a stroll. They've been cooped up much too long, and I'm afraid this news will distress them."

"But the rain--"

"It will stop soon enough. Off with you!"

Cinderella was dismissed with a dramatic wave of her stepmother's hands.

She was outraged. Forced to take her stepsisters along into town on her day off!

Shouts of an argument came from the library, and Cinderella groaned.

"Oh, bother…" she opened the door to the library slowly and reluctantly. Both of her stepsisters froze mid-sentence and turned towards the door with frightened expressions.

"Oh, it's just Cinderella…" Anastasia yanked a lock of her hair from Drizella's clenched fist and daintily tucked the strand back into her frizzy curls.

"What do _you_ want?" Drizella turned, placing both hands on her hips.

"I am ordered to take you both into town." she paused and waited for her stepsister's whines to subside before she continued. "And neither you nor I can do anything about it."

"Well I suppose we just have to go." Drizella smirked to herself as they all left the room.

- - -

"Oh, this rainy weather does make my hair frizz so!" Anastasia fussed as they stepped from their small, slightly rundown carriage into the muddy street.

"I don't see why we couldn't have afforded to rent a carriage. This one is simply an embarrassment!"

Cinderella left the girls to whine as she guided Delbert and the carriage into the hands of a stable boy before joining her stepsisters again. They strolled along silently until they came to Main Street, and Drizella's eyes fell on the old doctor's office at the end of the street. She strode away from Cinderella and Anastasia quickly without a word, and read a slip of paper that was glued to the doorframe of the abandoned office space.

"I have to go to South Avenue." Drizella announced as she rejoined them.

"Whatever for?" Anastasia scrunched her nose with distaste.

"Business." Drizella turned on her heel without another word. Cinderella shook her head, knowing exactly where her stepsister was heading.

"Humph." Anastasia stared after her sister with a touch of confusion.

"Oh." her face brightened. "What is that delicious smell?"

Cinderella smelled it herself. It was the unmistakable scent of freshly cooked bread.

"I must have some!" Anastasia spun around to see a ledge with five loaves of simple wheat bread all lined in a row.

"Wait, Anastasia." Cinderella grabbed her stepsister's wrist before she moved to grab a loaf for herself. Anastasia looked back at her to protest, but she was interrupted by a small voice behind her elbow.

"'Scuse me, Miss." a small grubby woman in rags slipped between Cinderella and Anastasia with a small bow of her unwashed head.

"Oh…" her stepsister watched with her mouth open as a crowd of needy citizens moved towards the bread eagerly. "It's for the poor people."

Cinderella released her stepsister's wrist and smiled.

"Very good, Anastasia."

"Don't speak to me as though I am a child!" she fumed and crossed her arms over her chest, turning back defiantly towards the baker's shop.

Cinderella watched her stepsister's expression change until she looked almost as hungry and ravenous as the impoverished crowd fighting over loaves of bread. She followed Anastasia's gaze and saw, to her surprise, that her stepsister had not found some pastry treat that suited her fancy, but was staring rather intently at a man just inside the front store window. He was bent over a counter, his arms covered in flour up to the elbow, pounding bread dough and shaping it to fit into a baking pan. His blue eyes were bright with exercise, and his blond hair was sticking to his damp forehead.

The man placed the dough in a smoking oven, grabbing a finished loaf and plopping it onto the counter. He wiped his perspiring brow on the bottom of his apron before he stepped outside. Cinderella assumed once her stepsister saw the baker's physique, she would quickly turn her head.

Anastasia was constantly going on about how perfect her future husband would have to be to suit her fancy--and plump was certainly not an adjective she would have placed in her long list of descriptions. For the baker was, in fact, rather plump around the middle, probably from taste testing his own rich cakes and pies.

"Alright then," he called out in a voice that soothed the crowd of people around the shop front, "Has every family gotten bread?" the people postponed their bickering to beg the baker for more bread, but the crowd finally thinned after they were all convinced they would get no more than one loaf per family.

"Anyone else?" he turned around holding the warm bread above his head.

"I will, sir!" Anastasia cried out beside her, and Cinderella looked at her aghast.

The baker turned as Anastasia approached and smiled pleasantly, but did not place the loaf into her outstretched hands.

"If you do not mind me saying, dear lady, that the healthy tone of your skin and your clothes tells me you are not quite as needy as those you saw before the shop only moments ago," he paused as she flushed, surprised by his outspoken nature, "but perhaps you are simply taking advantage of a free loaf of bread?"

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

"Well I--I just….You offered it, so why couldn't I take it?"

His blank expression at her whiney tone revealed to Anastasia that her childish demeanor, which always seemed to work on other people, did not seem to faze him in the least. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice to a more pleasant decibel.

"Your bread simply smelled so wonderful I could not help myself." She rummaged a few coins from a side pocket in her gown, "Here," she said as she held the polished currency out to him, but the baker shook his head, chuckling.

"No, my dear." He grabbed her free hand and placed the loaf in it. "I would rather you take it as a gift from me." The baker took his flour-covered hand and closed Anastasia's fingers over the coins she held in her palm.

Cinderella gaped. She had no earthly idea what had gotten into her stepsisters, but she did not have time to contemplate.

"Cinderella!" a sharp voice called from the end of the street. "Where have you been?"

She turned and opened her mouth to speak, but her stepmother interrupted her sharply, stepping around a mud puddle and coming to stand within inches of her face. Lady Tremaine lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper as to not be overheard.

"I have had to walk the whole distance to town. It was not my intention that you take the carriage, but you did not ask me before you left. Oh, _silence_ I will not hear any of your silly excuses. Where are my daughters?" she looked around quickly.

"Drizella is--" Cinderella began, but her stepmother's eyes had apparently fallen on her other stepsister.

"Anastasia!" She stormed off, and Cinderella watched with only half the embarrassment her stepsister was experiencing as the baker quickly withdrew his hand.

"Mother, I--"

"What is this? He's given you a free loaf of bread, has he? Well we won't be having that. It's not proper!" Anastasia gasped as Lady Tremaine slapped the loaf from her hands onto the ground. The bread rolled into the mud and straight into a puddle.

"_Mother!_ Why--"

"We are not poor. We don't need your charity."

Anastasia's face paled, and she turned to apologize to the baker, but her mother grabbed her free wrist roughly. Anastasia quickly stuffed her other hand that clutched her money quickly into her pocket, and Cinderella hoped her stepmother would not notice the dusting of flour from the baker's hand on her stepsister's dress.

"I am sorry for my insolent daughter, Sir." Lady Tremaine turned to the baker with a small smile and glinting eyes.

"My dear Madam, I…" the baker stopped when Anastasia shook her head almost imperceptibly with a warning in her wide eyes. "Apology accepted." he bowed slightly and turned to leave with one last glance at Cinderella's stepsister.

"I expect you to have Drizella back at the house the instant you find her!" Lady Tremaine hurled the words at Cinderella as she stepped down from the boardwalk.

"Yes, Stepmother. Shall I order a carriage?"

"_We will walk_!" Her stepmother hissed as she dragged the reluctant Anastasia along behind her.

- - -

Cinderella drove the carriage slowly through the gates with a small pang of guilt. She knew the outcome of this little outing would be horrendous for her stepsisters and herself as well. She had found Drizella and the doctor on a stroll, and she was sorry to interrupt their pleasant conversation and pull over on the side of the street, politely asking that she get in immediately. The doctor almost looked sorry to see Drizella leave as he kissed the top of her hand briefly before she closed the carriage door.

Drizella looked frightened as Cinderella helped her down from the carriage once they returned, but she found she had no words of comfort to prepare her stepsister for what she would receive upon entering the house.

Loud voices could be heard down in the main hall from Lady Tremaine's room.

"We are women of society, and to retain that title we must associate with _people_ of society and not lowly bakers or people of the streets!"

"But mother, he was just offering a loaf of bread--"

"Silence!"

Cinderella rapped on the door, and Anastasia opened it with eyes full of tears, and her flour-covered hand still hidden in the dress pocket.

"Drizella!" her stepsister cringed and stepped into the room. "Where have you been?"

Cinderella shut the door as quietly as she could, but all hopes of escape were dashed as her stepmother called her back.

"Did you think you would get out of this unscathed?" Cinderella remained silent. "I put my daughters in your responsibility, and you let them wander off in any direction."

"I didn't--"

"You will have double the amount of normal chores, and as for you girls," she directed her intense gaze to her shrinking daughters, "You will both have to study for three hours along with extra music lessons." Cinderella and her stepsisters answered without complaint.

"Now out with all of you!"

All three of them rushed to the door before Lady Tremaine changed her mind.

- - -

_So much for getting the entire day off…_

Cinderella stared up at the ceiling, her heart heavy with the events of the day.

Her stepsisters were, no doubt, crying into their pillows. Drizella for the loss of her dearest doctor and Anastasia for the newfound affection she had for a certain baker, and neither of them was allowed to feel what they felt.

It seemed Anastasia had caught the same sickness Drizella had fallen under a few days ago. They had both fallen in love…and it wasn't too long before she figured even her vile Stepmother would fall under the same spell.

Cinderella laughed out loud. The thought of her stepmother with a swarm of old bachelors asking for her hand was just too farfetched.

She managed a small smile as she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to finally take over. She wouldn't be rested in the morning, for she knew she'd be plagued with dreams, and it didn't help that the clock tower bells sounded very much akin to wedding bells.

- - -

**After I edited this chapter upon returning from my trip, it seemed to shrink. **

**I apologize.**

**I am most positive, however, that the next few chapters will be full to the brim with thick plot and good endings (unlike this one, however, but I refuse to criticize it too harshly).**

**Shall I spell it out for you?**

**R-E-V-I-E-W.**

**There, now. That should be perfectly clear.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I have an excuse! Indeed I do! **

**Summer is over and school has started. **

**Okay, so it's only been the first week, but it hasn't been easy, let me tell YOU!**

**Hmph.**

**Well, here's your long-awaited update nonetheless.**

**At least…I hope it wasn't **_**too**_** long of a wait.**

**Because I just love you guys. **

**Disclaimer: It is true that Disney owns Cinderella and all the other characters, but I do own--hey wait a second…I don't own anything in this chapter. Dah poo.**

**Enjoy, anyway.**

- - -

Chapter 8

- - -

Cinderella wiped the sweat from her brow and let the wind cool the rest of her body. The extra chores were really taking a toll, and it wasn't even midday yet. She sighed heavily and straightened her sore back. Her stepmother had given her the task of scrubbing down every surface in the house, and she had only just finished the porch.

She picked up the bucket of filthy water and went to empty and refill it for the fourth time since she began. It was going to be a long day…

Cinderella returned with an overflowing bucket and moved indoors reluctantly. There would be no breeze to cool her while she worked, so she tied a cloth around the top of her hair to dry the sweat. Before mopping, she swept the entire hall, leaving the dustbin on the last step to deal with later. She moved back to the bucket in the corner and filled it with a special soap her stepmother had required she use on the main hall floor. The soap foamed instantly, and each time she dipped her cloth in the water, a flurry of bubbles would escape and float above her.

Cinderella looked up at the shining orbs as they rose a few feet and glimmered for a few moments before they popped. She smiled to herself. She might just enjoy today's chores if she tried hard enough.

She made her way slowly across the main hall floor, scrubbing every inch, and moved to the middle of the floor close to the bottom stair. She was so close to finishing. With a sigh, she kept scrubbing, trying not to get too far ahead of herself.

"Girls!" her stepmother's voice from above made her jump. "Time for your music lesson. Drizella, you get your flute."

Her stepsisters whined pitifully, but were forced to go into the music room at the end of the hall. As her stepmother began to play the piano, the music sounded almost pleasant. Lady Tremaine was an accomplished piano player, and was never afraid to brag on her abilities.

"The pear shaped tones," her stepmother sang as she played the beginning chords.

Cinderella listened for a moment as the piano played an introduction, but when her stepsisters joined in, Anastasia with her loud, nasal singing voice and Drizella with pitiful squeaks of her flute, the piano was drowned out.

"Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale, high above me. Oh, sing sweet nightingale faaaar above…"

Cinderella was almost tempted to stuff the wet rag in her ears. And since no other alternative appeared, she was forced to simply drown them out with her own singing. She hummed along with the tune and then opened her mouth and let the sweet melody come from her heart.

The words were the same, but her voice was more melodious, and she couldn't help thinking to herself that a nightingale would be much more inclined to sing for her rather than Anastasia.

The bubbles continued to float above her as she washed the floor in time with her melody. So intent on singing and enjoying a soft song was she that she never noticed the silent steps of a sly cat as he made his way along the wall to his target. With a soft meow, almost like a snicker, he jumped into the dustbin with all four paws. Cinderella looked up suddenly as the cat removed one paw at a time on the steps, purposefully leaving brown cat prints all over her newly washed floor.

"OH--Oh, Lucifer! You mean old thing!" she dropped her washrag back in the bucket with a splash as she ran forward, grabbing the broom. "I'm just going to have to teach you a lesson." Lucifer saw the broom and bolted across the floor, leaving behind a trail of paw prints so she would be forced to wash the entire floor anew.

She was about to follow the cat as he ran up the stairs, but a loud knocking on the door caught her attention.

"Open in the name of the king!" a booming voice called from the other side of the door.

Cinderella jumped and made her way quickly across the floor, opening the door to see a short, plump messenger dressed in his royal blue uniform.

"An urgent message from his imperial majesty." he held out a decorative sealed letter.

"Thank you." She said as she took the envelope from his outstretched hand with a curious glance at its official wax seal.

"He said it was urgent…maybe I should interrupt the…_music lesson_." she chuckled to herself and made her way up the steps slowly toward the unpleasant sounds of the music room.

"Oooh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet--" Anastasia's singing was cut short as the flute squeaked.

"You clumsy--why, you did it on purpose!"

The sisters argued loudly, each shouting at the top of their lungs for no apparent reason.

"Girls, _girls._" They silenced. "Above all--self control."

Cinderella knocked on the door hesitantly.

"Yes?" her stepmother screeched as she slammed her fingers on the piano.

Cinderella entered, wincing inwardly at her stepmother's glare.

"How many times have I told you not to interrupt--"

"But this just arrived from the palace!" she called out, not able to hide her own excitement and curiosity.

"The palace? Oh, give it here!" Anastasia bolted forward.

"No, give it here!" Drizella jumped at the letter in Cinderella's hands.

"I'll read it." Lady Tremaine snatched the letter from Cinderella and broke the wax seal with haste. Her beady eyes scanned the page frantically. "Well, there's to be a ball in honor of his highness, the prince, and by royal command, every eligible maiden is to attend!"

"Why that's us!" Drizella screeched.

"And I'm _so_ eligible." Anastasia curtseyed daintily with a flutter of her eyelashes.

Her stepsisters were simply trembling with excitement, and Cinderella could hardly contain herself.

"Why, that means I can go, too!" As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted ever saying them.

"What? _You_, dancing with the prince?" Drizella broke into a fit of laughter as Anastasia joined in, mocking her.

"I'd be honored, your Highness. Would you mind holding my broom?" both girls laughed hysterically, and Cinderella even saw the hint of a smile on her stepmother's face as she pretended to scan the letter once more.

"Well, why not?" Cinderella defended herself firmly. "At the ball I'm still a member of the family, and it says 'by royal command, every eligible maiden is to attend.'"

"Why, so it does." her stepmother was agreeing, but her tone was mocking. "Well I see no reason why you can't go…_if _you get all your work done."

Cinderella reveled in the horrified expressions on her stepsisters' faces.

"Oh, yes, of course! I will."

"And if you can find something suitable to wear."

"I'm sure I can." she turned to leave, but shouted over her shoulder as she shut the door, "Oh, thank you, Stepmother!"

She flew down the hall in a flurry of excitement and finished scrubbing the floor and the stairs hurriedly. When she finished, she left the bucket, rag, broom, and dustpan in the kitchen before running back up to her room in the tower.

A few of the mice followed her up the stairs and into her room. She went over to her small wardrobe and pulled out a dress from behind her dusty work clothes.

"Oh, isn't it lovely?" the mice looked up at the sound of her voice. "It was my mother's."

She looked at the frilly lace collar and puffy sleeves in the mirror. The hem at the bottom was cinched so that the dress went inward and flared out with a few inches of fabric.

"Well, maybe it is a little old fashioned." her fingers itched to begin sewing. "Oh, but I'll fix that." she set the dress on the bed as she pulled a book from underneath her bed. "There's some good ideas in here." she flipped through the pages until she came to a pattern. "Oh yes! This one will do just fine. All I have to do is shorten the sleeves, release the hem, add a sash, and then--"

"CINDERELLA!" Anastasia and Drizella screamed from below.

She sighed heavily and tossed the open book onto the bed with a sinking heart. Not only would she have to accomplish a monstrous list of chores, but she would have to deal with her stepsisters' endless requests. As soon as she reached the doors to Anastasia and Drizella's room, piles of clothes were tossed in her direction as well as a flurry of demanding voices.

"Here, Cinderella, take this!"

"And this, too."

"Don't forget my slippers!"

"Fix the button hole on this shirt, Cinderella!"

"I need this dress hemmed!"

She frantically folded and piled the numerous objects in her arms so that she still had at least one hand free. She stepped to the side as Anastasia suddenly bolted from her room with a frilly pink dress in her arms.

"Mother, I don't see why people get to wear such nice things while I'm stuck with these old rags!"

Anastasia threw the dress onto the floor with a continued string of complaints as Drizella tossed other objects into the same growing pile while she rummaged through her wardrobe.

"I don't need these! Oh, what is this doing here?" Drizella shouted with frustration and threw a handful of old jewelry and scarves into the hallway.

"What are you still doing here? I need those slippers cleaned!" Anastasia screeched at Cinderella as she ran from her room to put more unwanted things in the mound of objects and bolted back into her room to pull dresses from her closet.

"Cinderella," her stepmother peered around her door into the hallway. "When you're through and you're finished with your regular chores, I have a few things for you to do."

"Very well."

Cinderella was forced to ignore the pile of things in the hallway for the moment. She made her way silently to the kitchen away from the bustle of her stepsisters.

She sat down and pulled out her sewing kit to begin mending minor flaws in her stepsisters' impractical, gaudy dresses and accessories.

In less than an hour, she'd finished and reluctantly made her way back up the stairs to deliver the many objects to her ungrateful stepsisters.

Cinderella was almost glad for the excuse to do regular chores than to deal with Anastasia's hair curling fiasco and Drizella's inability to button a corset.

- - -

Cinderella left the kitchen to glance frantically at the tall grandfather clock in the main hall. The carriage would arrive in two hours and she still had to finish hemming five other dresses Anastasia had suddenly decided needed minor alterations. She sighed, and rubbed her sore fingers as she made her way into the stuffy kitchen once more.

She'd managed to finish the regular chores, but she was sidetracked with the extra demands her stepsisters gave her. She had yet to find out what her stepmother had in mind for her to accomplish.

A servant's bell on the wall rang so suddenly she nearly fell from her seat with surprise.

Cinderella set down her sewing and went upstairs.

"I've decided to wear this dress for certain." Anastasia held out a heavily laced blue dress with too many petticoats. "There's no need to hem the other dresses, so you can go about your other chores."

The door was slammed in Cinderella's face, and she held her tongue, fuming with frustration. After receiving a list of extra chores from her stepmother, she tried her hardest to complete them all. Her mind screamed of unfairness, but her heart told her she had to keep moving, she had a goal. She _would_ make it in time and she _would _go to the ball. It was her only chance…her one chance to be happy.

- - -

The monotonous sweeps of her broom silenced as the sound of an approaching carriage reached her ears. She looked up at the clock, and her heart sank. Her determination was shattered. She'd only finished sweeping half of the main hall floor for the second time that evening. It was her last chore--but she was not finished.

She hadn't had time to finish her dress, but she'd managed to bring it down to the kitchen where she stole a moment to stitch here and there. She had not finished in time.

Her heart sinking nearly to her toes, Cinderella made her way slowly up the stairs and tapped on her stepmother's door.

"Yes?" Lady Tremaine's heavily powdered face appeared from behind the door.

"The carriage is here."

"Why, Cinderella, you're not ready, child!" her stepmother sounded surprised, but Cinderella saw the triumphant glint her eyes.

"I'm not going." Cinderella's voice sounded hollow, but she refused to try and hide her disappointment.

"Not going? Well, that's a shame. But of course there will be other times." Her stepmother smiled without warmth. The tone of her voice changed as she gave her one last command. "I want you to pick up that pile of things in the hallway before we leave. It would be most embarrassing should the coachman chance a glance in the doorway. They can be nosey like that."

"Yes, Stepmother. Goodnight." she turned as the door slammed shut.

She moved to pick up the gigantic pile of various objects that were rejected by her stepsisters, but something caught her eye as she did so. A small necklace strung with blue beads lay on top of the pile along with an elegant pink sash. The sash would go perfectly with her dress. With a start, Cinderella found she might actually have hope. She took the pile with her, careful not to drop anything, and walked as quickly as she could to the kitchen.

Once inside, she threw the other things on the floor and attended to her dress. She hadn't had time to finish the hem, but with her deft fingers she pinned it quickly and securely. Cinderella took off her clothes hastily and slipped the dress on, tying the pink sash about her waist and placing the bead necklace carefully around her slim neck. She observed herself in the smooth shiny surface of a cooking pot and quickly took the cloth from her hair, combing her fingers against the coarse brown fibers with distaste.

Her stepsisters could be heard bickering in the hallway, and she heard three sets of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Cinderella quickly braided her hair behind her, leaving a few locks of hair to fall against her face, softening her cheekbones slightly. She straightened a few wrinkles in her dress and rubbed the dust from her black shoes with a damp rag.

"Now remember," her stepmother's cold voice was heard in the main hall as she addressed her stepsisters, "when you are presented to his highness, be sure--"

"Wait!" Cinderella called out as she bolted through the kitchen door. "Please wait for me!"

Her stepsisters glared at her, shocked as light fell on Cinderella's dress.

"Oh, isn't it lovely?" She felt the soft petticoats of her own dress brushing against her legs as she twirled about with glee. "Do you think it will do?" Her dress was certainly much less extravagant than Anastasia or Drizella's, but she didn't care.

"Oh, Mother, she can't!" Anastasia cried in protest.

"Oh, Mother!" Drizella piped in as well.

"Girls, please." Lady Tremaine silenced her daughters with a wave of her hand, her eyes moving up and down Cinderella's thin figure with displeasure. "After all, we did make a bargain, didn't we Cinderella? And I never go back on my word."

Cinderella felt herself shrinking as her stepmother approached and lifted the beaded necklace with one finger.

"How clever. These beads, they give it just the right touch, don't you think so, Drizella?"

"No," Drizella glared at Cinderella, "I don't think she's--" her eyes fell on the necklace. "Why, that's my necklace! You little thief!"

"That sash! That's my sash!" Anastasia ran forward with Drizella and they both reached out, grabbing at her clothes roughly.

"Oh, please, no!" she called out pitifully, but her stepsisters would not be stopped.

The beaded necklace burst, and beads fell across the floor. The sash was ripped and her dress was simply reduced to rags while her stepmother stood to the side with an approving smirk.

"Girls, girls." she called out only after Drizella and Anastasia had ripped the sleeves and the skirt until the white petticoats could be seen. "Come along now, both of you. I won't have you upsetting your clothes."

Lady Tremaine and her odious daughters filed out the door. Her stepmother closed the door behind her with one last smirk, "Goodnight."

Cinderella stood silent for a moment, shreds of cloth from her dress surrounding her on the floor. The sound of the carriage faded, and after a moment, the tears came.

"Oh, it's just not fair!" she cried out as she ran through the kitchen and into the yard. "It's not fair at all…" she collapsed onto the ground, her back leaning against the stable and her head in her hands.

"I can't go…it's just no use anymore." she sobbed, speaking aloud the thoughts that had plagued her for years. "There's just nothing left to believe in!"

"Nothing, my dear?"

She looked up, startled, as a soft voice reached her ears. A small stout woman stood above her with a gentle smile on her face.

"Now you don't mean that, really."

Cinderella nodded, feeling very childish.

"Oh, but I do."

"Nonsense child. If you'd lost all your faith, I wouldn't be here, and here I am!" she held out a hand, and Cinderella was lifted to her feet as if she were as light as a feather. "Oh come now, dry those tears."

Cinderella rubbed her tearstained face against the soft cloth of her tattered dress.

"You can't go to the ball looking like that!"

The small woman put her arms on her hips, and Cinderella smiled at the odd nature of the woman. Beneath the hood of her blue cloak, she could distinctly see a pair of bright, laughing eyes and pearly white hair that surrounded a plump face.

"The ball? Oh, but I'm not--"

"Of course you are, but we don't have a lot of time! Because even miracles take time."

"Miracles?"

"Watch." the woman held up a hand, puzzled as nothing happened. "Oh, what in the world did I do with that magic wand?" She jumped up and down, shaking her soft blue robes and looking down her long sleeves. "That's strange, well I--"

Cinderella spoke aloud as she discovered something.

"Well then you must be--"  
"Your fairy godmother? Yes." Cinderella stood with her mouth open, staring at the small, strange woman before her, and wondering whether all the tales she heard as a child really were true.

_Magic? Could it be...?_

"Where is that wand? Ah! I forgot. I put it away." the woman reached up and drew a line in the air, and a soft white line followed her finger. Her godmother grabbed the line, and it was a stick. A wand. Sparks flew from the end of it as the woman looked about her.

"Now. I think the first thing you need is…a pumpkin!"

"A pumpkin?" Cinderella clutched the ragged edges of the dress, wondering how in the world a pumpkin could possibly get her any closer to the ball.

"Yes indeed. Let's see here…" the woman pointed her wand at a small, overripe pumpkin next to the stable and muttered a few words under her breath.

Cinderella watched in wonderment as the pumpkin slowly grew in size until it was as tall as the stable itself. The green vines twisted and curled about it until four wheels were formed--and suddenly, it turned white with glamorous embroidery and a delicate door with a golden handle.

"And with an elegant coach like that, you'll simply have to have uh…mice!"

She stood to the side speechless as her fairy godmother pointed her wand at a small group of mice next to the water trough. She watched as four of them, including Gus, suddenly jumped into the air and burst into the finest white horses with glimmering coats and groomed manes. She saw her good friend Jaques running about in circles, still a mouse, wondering where his friends had gone and dodging the heavy footfalls of four horses.

"There. Now of course, you can't go to the ball without a horse."

"A…another one?"

"Yes, but tonight instead of a horse you're having a coachman."

The stable door flew open and Delbert trotted into the yard, shrinking with every step until he stood only on two legs. His shape slowly formed, and he stood before her, grinning much like a horse would, in an elegant coachman's uniform.

"Oh well, that does it." she looked about with a creased brow, and then her eyes fell on a cowering brown dog next to the kitchen door.

"Oh yes of course! Yes, that's you Bruno." she flicked her wand and Bruno instantly popped into a small man with a uniform as elegant as Delbert's. Bruno walked over, transformed, and placed his hand on the door to the carriage. The horses were put in place and Delbert seated in the coachman's seat with his whip at the ready.

"Yes, that should do it, don't you think?"

Cinderella lifted one layer of ragged cloth from her dress.

"Yes of course, but don't you think--"

"No, I think that will do just fine!" her godmother looked about, pleased with her work, but unaware that Cinderella still stood in the tattered remains of her dress.

"I just was saying, don't you think my dress ought to be…"  
"Oh, your dress is simply lovely, my dear," her godmother looked at her with a wide grin, "lovely!" the grin faded as she finally let her eyes study the dress. "What? Oh, no dear, that will not do!"

Cinderella felt a soft breeze blow about her as if she were in the throes of a tornado. Her hair flew about wildly until it settled atop her head, bound by a ribbon. Her dress rose with the air and was suddenly transformed into the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. The light blue dress sparkled in the moonlight, and her white silk gloves were soft against her calloused and worn hands.

"Oh, it's a beautiful dress!" She almost felt she didn't deserve to wear such an elegant gown. She opened her mouth to say so, but her godmother smiled and pointed to the ground.

Cinderella looked down, lifting her skirts to reveal clear, glimmering shoes attached to her feet.

"Glass slippers!" her heart beat frantically, and she trembled with excitement. "Oh, it's a dream come true! A wonderful dream come true…"

Her spirits soared as she twirled about, her sparkling skirts spinning about in a wide circle around her legs.

"Yes dear, it's very nice, but there's only one thing." Her godmother placed a hand on her arm, looking directly and meaningfully into Cinderella's eyes. "It only lasts till midnight."

"Midnight? Oh, thank you!" She moved forward and embraced the small woman.

"Now, now, now," the woman returned the embrace warmly, but twittered away next to Cinderella's ear, repeating her instructions with a hint of frustration, "On the stroke of twelve, the stroke of _twelve,_ the spell will be broken and everything will be back to normal."

"Oh, yes I understand." She looked down into the small, plump face of her fairy godmother and glanced at the bent reflection of her toes beneath the glass slippers. "It's just…more than I could have hoped for." her voice faded as she held back grateful tears.

"My child…" the woman raised a hand to Cinderella's cheek, and the bell tower began to toll eight o' clock. "Goodness me, it's getting late! Hurry up, dear." the woman ushered her towards the carriage. "Off you go, the ball can't wait!"

Cinderella took one last glance at the small woman behind her, and opened her mouth to speak, but Bruno, disguised as the footman, took her hand and helped her up the small steps. She waved gaily to her fairy godmother one last time before Bruno shut the carriage door and Delbert whipped the horses into a full-out run.

**- - -**

**Sorry to leave you with such a cliffie, loves, but I just have to save some of the plot for the last chapters, you know?**

**That is to say, I have no idea how many more chapters this will go. As you have already guessed, this particular part of the plot is near the end of the cartoon, but who's to say I won't keep writing?**

**Now, now, don't get your hopes up! **

**I'm merely speculating.**

**Let's just say for now, while I feel so inclined, that this story will only be two more chapters after this. **

**How's that?**

**I need your reviews.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello again!**

**Here is the latest installment.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer****: I most certainly do NOT own the storyline to this one (maybe bits and pieces), because all the credit goes to Disney. Huzzah!**

**ENJOY.**

**Dream Come True**

**- - -**

**Chapter 9**

- - -

The carriage bumped up and down, side to side as it hit potholes in the road, but even the brutal beating she was receiving from the rough road could not suppress her excitement.

Cinderella was dressed in the finest of gowns and the most extraordinary glass shoes glistened against her sun-darkened skin. She took a silk glove from her hand and reached up to touch her hair. With a start, she felt soft strands beneath her fingers. Only with magic could her godmother have tamed her coarse, brittle hair. She'd had hair smooth as silk once as a child. It was a gleaming yellow gold at the time, not yet tainted and dyed by the hours in the sun and heat.

Her hand dropped to her knee and she looked at the calloused palms with a sigh and replaced her white silk glove as the ride suddenly became smoother. They had entered the gates and were now treading along smooth cobblestones.

Her heart fluttered with anticipation of the evening. Cinderella's mind brought forth the outline of a face, and she was startled as a sudden lump formed in her throat. She pushed the thoughts away and swallowed hard, keeping her mind on the evening ahead.

The carriage came to a stop and the door opened. Bruno smiled with his spellbound disguise and sparkling eyes. He reached for her hand and helped her down the carriage steps. She straightened her skirts and fussed with the lacy sleeves. A small white-gloved hand rested on her arm. Bruno said not a word, for he was truly a dog, but simply smiled his canine-like smile and reassured her with his dark brown gaze.

_You'll do fine, _he seemed to say.

"Thank you, Bruno."

Cinderella waved to Delbert as she walked around the front of the carriage, and he replied with a toothy grin and a wave before disappearing behind a bend in the cobblestone road towards the stables.

She turned and let her eyes fall for a moment on the majestic tapestries that hung from the entrance, but the final echoes of the clock striking eight drew her closer. She followed the red carpet through the doors and was refused an escort since she was already late. She did not complain, but moved forward across the red-carpeted entrance.

The orchestra inside was filling the ballroom with grand music, and she had to keep herself from sprinting through the open doors with nervous energy. As she entered the main hall, she was nearly blinded by the many gas lamps and lit candles that flooded the room and glinted on the marble floor. She stood at the top of the carpeted stairs and let out a lungful of air that she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

As her eyes focused to the brightness of her surroundings, she realized that the room below her was empty. She had not quite entered the ballroom yet. Enormous scarlet curtains that hung from the ceiling were drawn back with tasseled ropes on either side in an arched passageway at the bottom of the stairs. She saw only a piece of the darker room beyond, but she believed she might be able to slip in unnoticed. She glanced at the clock as she descended the stairs and realized that the introductions with the prince were still taking place.

"M'amselle Augustine Dubois, the daughter of General Pierre Dubois." The booming voice of an announcer echoed in the grand room.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and nervously moved forward.

Her glass heels clicked daintily on the marble floor, and she felt confidence seep through her with every step. She held her head high and stepped through the curtains. She found herself in a high roofed room with grand pillars that stretched all around the center of the room. In between the pillars were more tall scarlet curtains. She squinted beyond the curtains into the brightest part of the enormous room, where all the portable lamps and candles had been moved for the convenience of the dancers.

Hundreds of people filled the immense room, circling the dancing floor with their backs to the pillars. All eyes were turned to the end of the room, but Cinderella could not see into the brilliant light. She breathed deeply as she took small steps forward.

"The Mademoiselles Drizella and Anastasia Tremaine." her heart skipped a beat, but she still moved forward, her heels drawing the attention of those who stood under the arch of the closest entrance

Murmurs began with their lips and slowly filled the room as each person in turn stood on his or her tiptoes, stepping around others to see the latecomer. The crowd made way as she proceeded past the curtains. Gasps went throughout the people as the dress shimmered and glowed under the sudden light.

Cinderella's vision was blurred as her eyes burned in the intense lights all around. She heard footsteps and soon a magnificently dressed man stood in front of her, his figure backed by the light of a thousand candelabras. She looked into his face and was nearly knocked to her feet. His regal air merely accentuated his handsome features as a small smile spread across his thin lips and lightly powdered face. His hair was combed away from his eyes, the dark strands wet to keep from falling down his forehead. She stood almost eye-level with him, and she trembled slightly under his gaze.

"Madam." the beautiful man spoke to her, his voice vibrating pleasantly in her ringing ears.

Voices were heard from overhead, and soon people began to look away from the shimmering maiden and the mysterious man. Cinderella assumed they were drawn once again to the Prince, and she stepped to the side for an instant to look beyond his broad shoulders.

The man before her bowed gracefully, catching her attention, and she turned and curtsied in response, surprised that she was able to remain so poised under the gaze of so many people. The man held out his hand, and she grasped it without a word.

"The waltz! Quick, the waltz!" a loud voice shouted from above, "The lights!" Servants rushed forward and pulled all the portable lamps away from the floor, leaving only the glittering chandelier to light the way.

She was swept onto the dance floor in his arms as the music changed to a steady waltz. Her eyes were fixed only on the face before hers, and her ears caught snippets of conversation as they moved closer to a small crowd of onlookers.

"Who is that woman? She's simply a vision!"

"What's her name? Does anyone know her?"

He quickly guided them to the center of the dance floor away from the inquiring voices with deft steps and an apologetic smile.

She looked into the face before her racking her brain for some name. She had never seen him before, yet his eyes looked at her with a familiar intensity. He was most certainly the most handsome man in the room, save for the prince, who she had yet to meet.

She glanced over the shoulder of her dancing partner and saw that other dancing couples had joined them on the floor. They all swirled about her in a dizzying frenzy, and her eyes could not keep up with all of them. She felt the man's arms tense around her, and she brought her attention back to him.

"Sorry, I'm not much of a partner, am I?" She apologized softly, but the man smiled at her words and shook his head.

She realized that he was moving them in a definite direction towards the back of the ballroom. "Where are we…?"

"Out." His smile had faded, and he suddenly looked distraught. "I can't stand it in here."

She peered around his shoulder at the twirling couples and disorder of colors.

"Me either." she said quietly.

He smiled, but continued to look about for the best route of escape.

No one seemed to notice that they had strayed, and so they slowed their dancing, and he pulled her by the hand as they dashed through two closed curtains and out a side door.

She gasped as a cool breeze chilled her arms momentarily. She stopped and stood, staring at the sight before her. The man stood next to her, holding her hand, and looked down at her astonished face.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes." she said breathlessly as her eyes swept over the garden that stood before them.

Moonlight sparkled on grand fountains that sprayed rainbows of water droplets into the night air. Intricate statues adorned grassy areas around stone benches and marble birdbaths. Blossoming trees, with their flowers closed for the night, stood gracefully near every fountain and cluster of bushes. The man squeezed her hand slightly and urged her to walk with him. She stepped forward, willingly, and enjoyed the way her shoes tapped against the cobblestones below her feet.

"Oh, it's wonderful!" she turned and noticed the man staring at her with an odd expression on his face. "I'm sorry…I'm embarrassing myself. It's just I've never _seen_ such a garden! I'm sure you're used to it." She glanced at his eloquently decorated clothes that were tailored perfectly to fit his size.

"Yes, but that doesn't matter." he paused, changing the subject, "What _does_ matter is that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She laughed at his boldness. "You can't mean that."

"Of course! Look at you," he raised her arm and twirled her around, "you're a vision." he grinned at her, and she found he looked rather silly.

He pulled her arm down and drew her closer to himself. "Shall we take a walk?" She nodded and linked arms with him.

She could not suppress the giddiness that seemed to flit through her like butterflies. She looked at the man whose arm was linked in hers, and realized she wouldn't mind not meeting the prince after all.

She smiled and laughed more than she had in, well, since what seemed like forever. They strolled and talked together until they felt that their legs would give out beneath them and their voices would simply fade. She urged him to sit down with her on one of the many stone benches. He sighed and looked down at her the same way he had been doing consistently the entire evening. She noticed that same odd expression as it flashed across his comely features once more.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, it's just that when I first saw you, I felt…" he furrowed his brow, concentrating.

"Yes?" she leaned in, as if he were about to tell her some juicy secret.

"Nothing." He shook his head and smiled, putting a hand up to her cheek.

Her heart quickened, and she was aware of a tingling sensation that ran from the touch of his hand down her neck. _Sparks._ Their lips were merely inches apart, and she gazed into his soft eyes, praying that it wasn't just a dream and that he was real and not--

BONG!

She froze. Midnight…something about midnight…something--the enchantment!

"Oh my goodness!" she stood and pulled away from him reluctantly.

"What's the matter?" he leapt to his feet, an offended expression lighting his face.

"It's midnight."

"So it is. But certainly you can't still have a curfew--" he said with a laugh and stretched out his hand towards her.

"Goodbye!" she took one last glimpse of the man who stood before her, for she wasn't sure whether she would see him ever again.

"No, no wait! You can't go just now!" he lunged forward and reached for her wrist, but she moved out of the way, clasping her hands nervously. He reached up and grabbed one of her hands gently.

"Oh, I must…please, please let me go!"

"Why?" he looked at her with such longing that it took all of her might to pull her hand from his grasp. "We only just met, and--"

"Oh, I…uh--the prince! I haven't met the prince yet, and there isn't much time--"

"The prince? But didn't you know--"

BONG!

"Goodbye!" she turned and ran in earnest this time. She focused her efforts on moving her tired feet, and tried not to listen to the cries behind her.

"No wait. Come back, oh please come back! I don't even know your name. How will I find you? Wait! Please, wait!"

BONG!

She ran through the curtains, the man close behind her. She ran around the dancing floor and people gasped at the retreating figure, wondering if it couldn't possibly be the lady they had seen at the beginning of the ball, for her hair hadn't been so messy, and surely her skirts not so wrinkled--

Her ankles nearly gave out when she reached the stairs, but she kept going. Voices called to her from behind, and she only recognized one--the man from the garden. She did not pause once to ponder why his name still remained a mystery, but moved at a rapid pace up the first few steps.

One of her slippers fell off as she nearly tripped on her skirts, and she stopped to pick it up, but her eyes fell on one figure in particular as he passed through the red curtains below. His elaborate clothes were in disarray, a few locks of his hair fell across his face that was flushed from running. She recognized him, but the name did not pass her lips as she remained immobile, trembling with the effort to make him feel the same familiarity.

He stopped at the bottom step looking up at her, but his expression held nothing more than the same longing he'd shown in the garden. The eyes, a dark chestnut, implored her to stay, but she could not--not with time ticking away so rapidly by the second.

She bent down to retrieve the glittering slipper, but he moved even closer, his hand outstretched in desperation. She stood up quickly, abandoning the shoe on the bottom stair, and forced her shaky legs to guide her away. She didn't have time to prove to him--

BONG!

She turned and shouted "Goodbye!" to a portly man with a looking glass who stood on the stairs chatting to a group of older women. She had meant it for the man behind her, but it didn't matter anymore.

"I say, young lady!" the portly man shouted as she quickened her pace up the stairs.

"Wait!" that familiar voice…

BONG!

She was at the top of the stairs, and she didn't stop for the royal guards who waited with outstretched arms to escort her to her carriage. She flew past them as fast as she could, her gait awkward with the loss of one shoe.

"Who is she?" a group of ladies waiting for their carriages said loudly as she sprinted past them, but she didn't care about her dignity.

She hesitated only once to slip the other shoe from her foot before looking about eagerly for the carriage.

"Mademoiselle! Senorita, just a moment!" the portly gentleman was close behind her heels.

BONG!

The white carriage finally sped from the entrance to the stable, Delbert frantically pulling the horses to an abrupt halt in front of her. She didn't bother climbing in, but leapt onto the side alongside a frantic Bruno, gripping the ornate bars next to the door tightly as Delbert urged the horses on to a full gallop. They passed the side entrance of the palace on the way out, and chaos could still be heard.

"Guards, guards!" the same rotund gentleman with the looking glass was shouting. "Stop that carriage!"

BONG!

"Close the gates!" he screamed.

The gates were closing as the carriage approached them, the portly man and his caravan of horsemen on their heels. They managed to slip through with another slap of the reigns from Delbert and a jolt forward brought them safely past the metal bars.

BONG!

"AGH!" the man cried in frustration as he suddenly pulled his horse to a halt, "Open the gates and _follow that coach_!"

The carriage flew through the forest at top speed. Trees whizzed past her head dangerously, and she bent close to the walls of the coach, gripping the ornate bars with white knuckles.

BONG!

The clock echoed loudly from its tower.

BONG!

Two more... She peered around behind the carriage cautiously and saw the caravan of horses just around the furthest bend in the road.

BONG!

The bars under her hands started to feel sticky, and something was oozing through the lining in her dress and across her bare feet.

BONG!

The rattling of carriage wheels stopped abruptly as they came to a halt just outside the front gates of their home. In a shower of glittering sparks, all the mice, including Bruno, the horse, and herself, toppled to the ground in one giant heap on top of a smelly, overripe pumpkin. She quickly scooped up the dazed mice and carried them inside the gates. The horsemen were approaching at top speed. She hid behind the giant stone pillar that held up the gate, kneeling down in the grass, the animals huddled around her. Her heart thumped so loudly, it was a wonder the men didn't hear it.

The ground shook with horses' hooves. She peered around the pillar, and gasped as the horses sped around the corner of the road and pummeled the pumpkin as if it were a simple autumn leaf. Seeds and pumpkin guts spewed all over the road. The rumbling increased to a deafening decibel, and they were gone as suddenly as they had come. She gulped thankfully and brushed a few pumpkin seeds from her tattered dress.

_Could have been me…_

"Oh, I'm so sorry, everyone…" she patted Bruno's head as he sat beside her, panting with exhaustion. "I guess I forgot about everything, even the time--but it was so wonderful. And he was so handsome and kind, and when we touched, I--but, oh I'm sure that even the prince himself couldn't have been more, more…" she let her words fade and sighed heavily. "But it's over now and--"

She looked down as the grass moved against her trembling fist. Jaq, who'd joined the group, and Gus were curiously sniffing the still-glittering shoe that was clutched tightly in one hand. Cinderella gasped and held the cool glass against her burning cheek.

"Thank you…" she whispered as she looked to the starry heavens, a plump face smiling in her mind's eye. "Oh, thank you so much."

She would never forget the kindness of her fairy godmother, nor would she forget how miraculous the whole evening turned out to be. Her mind had until that night refused to wrap itself around the idea of magic, but she'd felt the reality of it. She'd been clothed in the finest gown that only magic could provide, and the slippers--so fragile, elegant.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she remembered the face she had seen before she left the palace. It was a face she hadn't pictured in such a long time. His memory had remained so vivid after he left, but as the months rolled by, she was merely left with a vague outline of his profile. It had taken that very moment on the red-carpeted stairs as his hair had fallen from its perfectly combed form and his eloquent clothes were wrinkled, some of the buttons had come undone, his face burning with exercise…

It was Abram.

Abram, the dearest man she knew, and yet she hadn't truly known him.

Cinderella placed the glass slipper in her lap and covered her warm face with her hands. He had looked so different, and yet his eyes were the same chestnut brown and his touch--it still sent sparks down her neck.

She had been dressed up like a porcelain doll, playing the part of a distinguished lady of society. He had not been pretending at the ball. She knew because she had guessed it in the back of her mind when they first met that there had to be something more to him. And so she was right.

Abram had fallen in love with the porcelain doll in the beautiful dress from the ball, not the scullery maid behind the disguise. Had he truly been in love with Gwyn, or was he merely playing with her heart? He didn't know it yet, but he'd fallen in love with the same woman all over again.

He hadn't recognized her, and she planned to keep it that way.

Cinderella looked up as Bruno licked her ankle, and she wiped her tears away resolutely.

She stood slowly, pressing the glass shoe to her chest, deciding for once to be content with what she had. She had a home, granted, not a happy one, but a home nonetheless. She was worked thin and dry every day, but she found ways to enjoy herself.

She could never be the same beautiful woman from the ball, and she may never see his face again. But she was left with the memories of a most miraculous evening. She would never forget his wonderful kindness…

Cinderella wouldn't break Abram's heart by revealing the truth, no matter how much her own heart ached.

- - -

**Oh boy! What a bittersweet ending…**

**Don't grieve, my friends, there shall be another chapter, one that's hopefully longer with more meat.**

**This chapter was fun to write, and the next one will be just as enjoyable, I hope!**

**Please leave some reviews.**

**I love you all!**


	10. Chapter 10

**And so it begins again.**

**Here's one more chapter for you, loves, before school begins to get crazier.**

**I expect this will be the last update for a while…**

**Homework is starting to pile up and teachers are beginning to think about assigning projects all at the same time.**

**FUN!**

**Yeah, just kidding it isn't.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Definitely not mine. Although, some of it happens to be mine…but I'll let you read and find out what's different. **

**Dream Come True**

- - -

Chapter 10

- - -

The large clock in the castle chimed away at seven in the morning, and Cinderella was up and dressed before it finished the seventh BONG. It seemed like her whole room shook whenever those chimes went off. It's a wonder she got any sleep at all with it chiming away hour after hour.

"Cinderella!" her stepmother's voice called up.

So, she was already awake herself? Normally she had to wake the whole household and serve them breakfast. Her stepmother and stepsisters were never out of bed before nine a.m.

She hurried down the endless spiral of wooden stairs, but her stepmother was an impatient woman. Even as she reached the last landing before the door, her stepmother called her once more, irritated.

"Cinderella! Oh where is that--" she burst through the door and caught Lady Tremaine by surprise. "Ah, there you are."

"Yes. Is there something you need? I haven't made breakfast--"

"Where are my daughters?"

Cinderella was caught by surprise. What a silly question!

"Why, I think they're still in bed." She replied, confused.

_Of course they're still in bed…they always sleep too late. And after they didn't even get back until one a.m., I doubt they'd be up. _

"Oh, well don't just stand there. Go bring the breakfast up." she snapped out of her thoughts at her stepmother's command and nodded obediently.

Her stepmother was in an especially antsy mood, and Cinderella promised herself to stay as far away as possible.

She fixed the trays as quickly as possible, but all the while, she heard her stepmother's voice ringing loudly from upstairs.

"Drizella! Drizella!"

"What?" she yawned loudly.

"Get up! Quick. This instant. We haven't a moment to lose." her stepmother's heels clicked on the tile floor as she moved from Drizella's to Anastasia's room, where she shouted incessantly until Anastasia finally responded with a whine.

"Huh? Oooohhh…" she moaned. "What for? It's too early."

"Oh everyone's talking about it--- the whole kingdom. Oh hurry now. He'll be here any minute!" her tone changed to that of anxiety.

Cinderella knew the day would not go well, and quickly grabbed the trays and rushed up the stairs, continuing to listen to what her stepmother had to say.

"Who'll be here any minute?" Drizella slurred her words together sleepily.

"The Grand Duke. He's been hunting all morning."

Cinderella nearly dropped the trays, but managed to steady them on the railing of the staircase. She froze at the top of the stairs, afraid to move. No one noticed her.

"Hunting?" Anastasia was fully awake now.

"For that girl, the one who lost her slipper at the ball last night. They say he's madly in love with her."

Cinderella's heart thudded in her chest.

"The Duke is?" Drizella asked, her interest sparked.

"No, no, no, the prince." Lady Tremaine corrected her irritably.

Her mind clicked. Several things happened at once. First, she dropped the breakfast trays with a clatter, and secondly, a face appeared in her mind, blocking out all other memories.

_A handsome face, hidden somewhat by dirt and grime, a few locks of hair falling across the forehead. _

"You clumsy little fool! Clean that up, and then help my girls dress."

Cinderella moved involuntarily at her stepmother's command, her thoughts whirling.

_He was dressed in shabby clothes, but there was something regal about him.._

"Why do _we_ have to get dressed?" Drizella complained.

"If he's in love with that other girl, why should we even bother?" Anastasia whined.

_Abram was in fact…the prince himself. _

"Now you two, listen to me! There's still a chance that one of you can get him."

"Huh?" both girls chimed in. "One of _us_? Why mother, what do you mean?"

_He was still looking for the woman from the ball…_

"Just this: no one, not even the prince himself knows who the girl is." Drizella and Anastasia moved forward anxiously, leaning close to hear more. "The glass slipper is their only clue. Now the Duke has been ordered to try it on every girl in the kingdom."

_He was looking for her, but he didn't know it._

"…and if one can be found whom the slipper fits, then, by the King's command, that girl shall be the prince's bride."

"His bride?" Cinderella asked aloud, to her own surprise.

_Abram would go as far as marriage? _The thought struck her hard.

"His bride!" Drizella and Anastasia called out in horror, realizing how many things they wanted Cinderella to do for them before the Duke arrived.

"Cinderella, get my things!" Drizella called to her, but Cinderella stood where she was, her mind in a daze.

"Never mind her, mend these right away." Anastasia piled numerous clothes in her outstretched arms.

"Oh, no, not until she irons my dress!" Drizella threw the dress on top of the growing pile of clothes. The clothes in her arms were weightless. She herself was weightless, floating on air.

"Uh, uh, uh…" Anastasia waved her hand in front of Cinderella's eyes, "What's the matter with her?" she put her arms on her hips and glared angrily at her.

"Wake up, stupid!" Drizella's words did not phase her one bit.

"We've got to get dressed!" Anastasia shouted loudly in Cinderella's ear.

"Dressed." she repeated the word flatly, and suddenly snapped out of her thoughts, dropping all the clothes on the floor. "Oh yes. Oh, we must get dressed. It would never do for the Duke to see me--" she turned quickly and made her way for the door to the attic stairs, oblivious to everything but her own thoughts.

"Mother! Did you see what she just did?" Anastasia screamed. "All my clothes!"

"Are you going to let her walk--" Drizella began.

"Quiet!"

Cinderella was so absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn't even notice the pronounced clicking of her stepmother's heels behind her. She danced gaily into her tower room and approached the mirror, laughing at the silly grin that spread on her face. She closed her eyes and imagined the man before her, Abram…the _prince._

He had danced with her, and her alone. He loved her, wanted to marry her--but it wasn't her he would be expecting. Gwyn had been a lie, but he had seemed to care…yet she knew not whether he truly loved her, for why else would he fall so easily for a pretty maiden after one evening?

She opened her eyes as a sudden creak of a footboard startled her from her thoughts. Movement in the mirror caught her attention. She gasped as she saw her stepmother reaching in and grabbing the door handle, the key in her hand.

"Oh no! No, please!" she turned and ran to the door, but it slammed in her face, the lock snapping into place. "This isn't fair! You can't keep me up here, oh please!" she banged on the door fruitlessly, hearing her stepmother chuckle as she made her way down the staircase.

She sank to the floor, sobbing. It just wasn't fair…the one time something good happened to her, it had to be taken away just as quickly as it had come in the first place. She put her hand over her mouth and let the sobs rack her body.

Cinderella wiped her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest, hopeless. She pictured the prince standing before her. She closed her eyes and willed herself into the garden.

She remembered his kind smile and his goofy grin when he laughed, the same one she'd seen in the garden the day he helped her with the chores.

The sound of an approaching coach was heard outside.

"Whoa!" the coachman stopped the carriage outside the front door.

Cinderella ran to the window and saw an extremely short and balding man carrying a pillow covered in a silk cloth. She knew exactly what was on the elegant pillow the man held, and she even had a match to it sitting in a locked drawer in her dresser.

She watched as the Duke slowly stepped out of the carriage and moved towards the door with difficulty, yawning tremendously as they approached the front steps. Cinderella went over to her door and pressed her ear against the keyhole. Everyone downstairs was in an uproar. Everyone, that is to say, meaning Anastasia and Drizella.

"Oh mother! Mother! He's here, he's here!" Anastasia screamed with delight.

"The Grand Duke!" Drizella piped in.

"Oh, do I look alright? I'm so excited, I just don't know what I'll do."

"Girls!" her stepmother interrupted them. "Now remember, this is your last chance. Don't fail me." she threatened as the door was opened.

"Announcing his imperial grace, the Grand Duke." the royal postman shouted.

"You honor our humble home."

Cinderella pictured her stepmother taking a large, sweeping curtsey, and smiling with all her might. She scoffed, and pressed her ear harder against the door, eager to hear the goings-on downstairs.

"May I present my daughters, Drizella…Anastasia."

"Your Grace." Anastasia crooned.

"Oh yes. Charmed, I'm sure…" a tired and raspy voice replied.

"His Grace will now read a royal proclamation."

"Ahem." Cinderella heard the rustling of a scroll unrolling, and the Duke continued in a monotone voice. "All loyal subjects of His Imperial Majesty are hereby notified by royal proclamation in regard to a certain glass," he stopped, yawning, "slipper. It is upon this day decreed--"

"Why that's _my_ glass slipper!" Drizella shrieked with excitement.

"Well, _I_ like that, it's my slipper--" Anastasia was interrupted by a firm voice.

"Girls, girls! Your manners!" she changed her tone to the consistency of thick honey, "A thousand pardons, Your Grace. Do continue."

"Yes quite so. Uh, uh, uh oh yes. It is upon this day decreed that a quest be instituted throughout the length and breath of our domain the sole and express purpose of said quest to be as follows to wit. That every single maiden in our beloved kingdom without privilege or exception shall try upon her foot this aforementioned slipper of glass and should one be found upon whose foot said slipper shall properly fit--" he stopped, yawning violently.

She had no idea how tired the Duke must be by this point after traveling over the whole kingdom. The Duke's voice faded so much that even after pressing her ear painfully to the door, she could not hear even the slightest peep. A few phrases floated up to her door, but most was lost as the voice crackled with exhaustion.

"His Royal Highness, our beloved son and heir…the noble prince…noble prince will humbly…upon banded knee beg request or if need be implore said maiden…her hand in marriage. Whereupon, should the aforementioned maiden look with favor…happy couple pledge their troth--" the Duke paused, catching his breath, his voice strengthening, "and in due course upon the inevitable demise of His Most Gracious and August Majesty, the King succeed to the throne to rule over all the land as King and Queen of our beloved kingdom. Ahh, so be it…" his soft voice stopped abruptly.

Cinderella closed her eyes and pictured the fatigued Duke plopping into a high-backed, over-cushioned chair, his royal postman fanning him with the scroll. She yawned painfully through the lump in her throat and thumped her head against the door gently, letting it roll forward onto her knees as she fell into a fitful dazed state of thought. She wasn't sure whether she actually fell asleep, or how much time passed, but she knew she hadn't slept through the Duke's visit, for it was more than twice as loud downstairs when she lifted her head again.

"Why can't you hold still a minute?" Anastasia shouted at the royal postman.

"Oh my word! Enough of this." the Duke shouted over the din. "The next young lady, please?"

Drizella shrieked with excitement. Many sounds of struggle ensued, and at some point, someone fell against the piano keys harshly, the melodious notes jarring with Drizella's shrieks.

"Oh of all the stupid little idiots! I'll do it myself. Get away from me. I'll make it fit." Drizella grunted with effort, and then laughed triumphantly. "There."

"It fits!" her stepmother cried aloud.

"It fits?" the scraping of chair legs signaled the Duke standing in surprise. "Oh, at last--oh, oh no! Don't drop--"

Cinderella's stomach lurched as she guessed Drizella had been over-zealous with her attempts at stuffing her large foot into the slipper. She heard the Duke stumble and fall, crying out with a shout of relief.

"Oh Your Grace! I'm dreadfully sorry. It shan't happen again." Lady Tremaine spoke with a disappointed tone to her voice, but Cinderella heard no traces of apology.

"Precisely Madam!" the Duke fumed. "Now." he paused, seeming to straighten himself. "You are the only ladies of the household, I presume?"

"There is no one else Your Grace."

Cinderella's fists clenched tightly at her stepmother's words. Oh what she _would_ do to that woman!

"Good day! Good day." the Duke spoke quickly, seeming to be in a hurry to leave.

She ran over to her dresser and fumbled with the key to her drawer in a fit of panic. She opened it with a quick twist of the key and pulled the slipper out, holding it fondly between her hands. Her attention was drawn to the window as the slam of a carriage door echoed against the stone walls of the house. She ran to the window and looked down far below at the carriage and watched the footman step onto the running board with caution.

"Wait! Please wait! I'm up here, please help!" she screamed until her throat was sore, but her voice did not reach the ears of those so far below.

She set the slipper down on the dresser, grabbing a hairpin as she made her way to the door. Cinderella dropped to the floor and immediately began twisting the hairpin in the lock fruitlessly. She was frantic, and her hands shook with the effort to keep a grip on her makeshift lock-pick. Cinderella nearly had the lock open as the hairpin slipped completely through the keyhole, but something on the other side of the door swatted at the spiked end of the pin. She cried out in surprise, and the yowl of a cat answered her in mocking tones.

No…of all times, why must he come _now_?

"Lucifer!" she shouted. "Oh, Lucifer, you leave right this instant or I'll…I'll--" she was locked behind a door. She found that making threats wouldn't help, but what else was she to do?

The Duke's carriage was kept waiting only by the prolonged apologies of her stepmother at the door.

The cat took another swipe at the keyhole, nearly knocking the pin out of place.

"Lucifer, you leave this instant or I swear--when I get out I'll give you a swift _kick_ and pull all the hair off your tail! Oh, you mean cat, you--" He let out a dissatisfied yowl, and soft padding was heard down the stairs. She had no time to feel triumphant.

One last twist of the hairpin and the lock finally slid back into place. She ran to the dresser and stuffed the glass slipper in an apron pocket before bolting out the door.

"Wait!" she called desperately. "Wait for me!" her cries echoed uselessly in the stairwell. She nearly flew down the spiral stairs and fumbled clumsily with the doorknob once she reached the door.

"You!" her stepmother screamed as her eyes fell on Cinderella's approaching figure from inside the music room.. "Anastasia, Drizella--Stop her!"

Her stepsisters moved towards the door to block her exit, but she was much swifter and faster. She breezed by them, taking the opportunity to stick her tongue out at them in passing, reveling in their shocked expressions.

Her stepmother screamed at her, but for once, she felt wonderful. She felt unafraid to disobey, to defy her stepmother. She let her legs guide her through the gate and down the road after the carriage that was just picking up speed.

"Stop!" she screamed. "Stop the carriage! Wait for me!" the coachman turned his head and reined the horses to a halt. "Your Grace, please." she rapped on the carriage door, and the Royal Postman opened it, slightly dazed at the sight of Cinderella, disheveled and panting, in front of him.

Anastasia and Drizella were close behind her and jumped in front of the postman.

"Pay no attention to her!" Drizella put a hand behind her and shoved Cinderella rudely.

"It's only Cinderella." Anastasia said after a few panting breaths.

"Our scullery maid…" Drizella wheezed.

"It's ridiculous, impossible!" Anastasia spewed after catching her breath.

"…who does all the chores." They both continued until the postman was so confused, he was simply lost for words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"She's out of her mind."

"Yes, just an imaginative child--"

"Madams!" the Duke shoved his head out from behind the postman, and cleared his throat collecting himself, speaking directly to Anastasia. "Madam, my orders were every maiden." he shoved the postman gently out of the carriage, stepping down after him. "Come my child." he beckoned to Cinderella. The postman reached into the carriage and pulled out the silk pillow that held the shoe.

"Grab the slipper!" her stepmother's voice called from a distance. Anastasia and Drizella pounced like dogs, and each grabbed one end of the shoe.

"It's my slipper!"

"No, I touched it first, it's MINE!" they tugged and pulled until their faces turned red.

The Duke and the postman shouted and reached a hand in to grab the slipper, but each time the girls pulled just out of reach. Anastasia yanked the slipper from Drizella's hands and held it up high out of reach. Drizella jumped up and swatted at the shoe, knocking it clean out of Anastasia's fingers. The postman shouted as he jumped forward, the Duke burst into tears, and Lady Tremaine ran most ungracefully towards them, but the shoe fell with a harsh tinkling of shattering glass against the muddy road.

"Now look what you've done, you clumsy oaf!" Anastasia jumped towards Drizella and they both toppled to the ground in a fierce catfight. The postman kneeled to the ground and thumbed through the pieces uselessly.

"Girls, girls!" Lady Tremaine yelled uselessly.

Cinderella seemed to watch everything separately. First, she saw her stepsisters who yanked each other's hair and bit one another, her stepmother who was nearly blue in the face with shouting, the postman, pitifully kneeling on the ground pushing around shards of irreplaceable glass, and lastly, the Duke who was the most pitiful of all.

Exhausted to the brink of fainting, he merely stood, his face in his hands, and wept bitterly for all the wasted work he had done that day. Cinderella stood, and found her mind as placid as the sparkling fountains at the palace. As placid as smooth glass…as smooth as a glass slipper. The slipper! She reached over and touched the Duke's shoulder.

"Your Grace, perhaps if it would help--"

"Oh, no…nothing can help now." he sniffed and wiped the tears from his face.

"But you see, sir," she reached into her apron and pulled out the clump of rags, unfolding them gently, "I have the other slipper."

"My dear maiden!" the Duke shouted with joy, and clapped his hands, staring at the sparkling shoe before him.

All other noise and commotion stopped. Drizella and Anastasia froze instantly, and her stepmother looked at her with sharp, glinting eyes, her mouth open in horror. The postman took that as his cue and invited Cinderella to sit on the carriage step where he took the shoe gently from her hands and slipped it onto her bare foot.

"A perfect fit!" he shouted.

"Driver, take us to the palace at once." the Duke helped Cinderella into the carriage and stepped in after the postman.

"Well ladies," the Duke said to the three frazzled figures standing in the mud, "I hope you have learned your lesson."

And with that, he shut the carriage door in their horrified faces.

- - -

Cinderella was bumped and jostled inside the finely furbished carriage, and though the Duke spoke in soft excited tones, she did not register a word he said.

Her emotions were as uneven as the ground the coach wheels rattled against. Her heart fluttered excitedly with anticipation, but her rational mind cried out in protest.

_He fell in love so quickly…how can you be so certain he will accept "Gwyn" again? _The thought had plagued her every waking moment since the ball.

Yet she had been so certain of his feelings the previous year in the fall. Could it all have been an act?

Her mind raced with questions, but the carriage soon came to a halt outside the castle entrance, and an overwhelming sense of dread filled her as she was helped down the metal steps to the ground.

She glanced at her appearance. Her cotton dress was faded from hours in the sun with dirt stains left from long periods of time spent kneeling in the dirt. She wore no shoes, as she often did in the summertime, and her sun-tanned feet and legs were soiled with smudges of mud from running after the carriage.

One radiant shoe shone in the morning sunlight, and it clung to her foot. She bent down and quickly removed the shoe, clutching it to her chest with a trembling hand. She would need it as proof she had really been that dazzling maiden from the ball.

Cinderella felt absently up to her hair and touched the cloth that covered the top of her head and tied at the nape of her neck. Her brown locks of coarse hair had expanded with the sweat and the heat. Her face burned with embarrassment as she was forced to enter the sparklingly clean palace on the arm of the still-chattering duke.

"And I believe you aren't listening to me, are you?" he said after noticing her distant expression.

"Where might I find the prince?"

She was ready to accept Abram's polite refusal and forget she ever met him.

"He has some important business to attend to at the moment, but he shall return as soon as he can, Miss." The duke lifted his eyeglass and examined her sudden change of face.

Cinderella looked down at her feet and the shining marble floor beneath them, feeling a glare of resentment from a passing maid.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but might I wait in the garden? I do not feel…ah…well."

She needed an excuse, any excuse, to escape the palace. The scrutinizing gaze of the head servant burned her face, and with the Duke's consent, she quickly led herself up the carpeted stairs and through the door.

After convincing the royal guards she did not need their escort, she jogged around the side of the building to the garden, morning dew from the grass splashing against her bare feet.

With a sigh of relief, she slowed her pace and sat down on a stone bench, drinking in the sights around her.

The garden was twice as pretty in the daylight than in the moonlight. The sun glittered against the spray of water from the fountains, and the morning light shadowed each detail of the immense statues that towered above her. The green leaves of the willow trees swayed in the morning breeze, waving as if in greeting.

She felt almost at home in the garden, sitting on the very same bench she'd shared with Abram--or whatever his real name was.

A soft step behind her caught her attention and she stood suddenly, her eyes falling on a familiar figure.

"Gwyn?" his brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of her.

She felt every muscle in her body clench, restraining the sudden urge she had to run swiftly into his arms. Cinderella had thought herself prepared for this very moment, but she soon felt her confidence shatter as his dark eyes observed her with surprise, but not a shocked surprise, more _relieved._

"Abram, I--I'm so sorry…" her voice failed her as she stood and took a few steps toward him holding the glittering shoe out at arm's length.

He looked at the shoe through squinted eyes, the sun glinting off the glass viciously, but beneath his grimace, she saw a sudden flash of realization.

She stepped back as he took it from her hand.

He stared into her face for a moment with the oddest of expressions, his carefully combed hair falling forward across his brow. The front of his tailored jacket was unbuttoned to reveal thinner but still finely sewn fabric beneath. Cinderella was sorry to see he was forced to wear long pants and a jacket even in the heat of summer. As the prince, she supposed he had to keep certain airs about him.

His gaze became increasingly disconcerting, and she began to turn slowly away.

"Wait."

He said only one soft word, but it was enough to make her start and return her gaze to his pleasant face.

"It's Alaric."

"Pardon?"

"My name. Prince Alaric Mondemar." he stepped forward and held out his hand in greeting, as if they were meeting for the first time.

She placed her trembling hand in his.

"Cinderella Devinport."

"Cinderella…" he tried the name a few times out loud, each time sounding more pleasant and melodious than the first.

Before she could pull her hand from his grasp, he pressed her hand firmly, his eyes imploring her to stay.

She allowed him to lead her to the stone bench.

He placed the glass slipper next to him on the bench and grasped her calloused hand between his two hands gently.

"I guess we both lied, didn't we?"

Cinderella's legs itched to move.

"In more ways than one, apparently." Her voice trembled slightly as a sudden lump formed in her throat.

He opened his mouth, startled, and began to speak, but she cut him off, pulling her hand quickly from his grasp.

"I'm sure you have more important things to do than talk to a scullery maid!" The sudden flare of anger and hurt that flared in her mind startled her, and she stood quickly.

She let her legs run freely away from the garden, away from his face and the fading sound of tinkling glass. She knew not where she was running, but she would not stop. Cinderella passed the gates and ignored the shouts of the gatekeepers as she trotted past. A familiar fork in the muddy road, the flashing of trees, and the sudden sound of swaying grass in the breeze...

Cinderella had come to the same field she and Delbert had visited many times before, and she stopped at the tree, leaning against it heavily with the effort of running. She panted, trying to fill her lungs with the muggy morning air.

Alaric's hurt and startled face flashed before her eyes, and she sank to the ground as the realization of what she had just done finally hit her.

She'd run away from the most wonderful man she knew, a man that possibly loved her, but she hadn't stayed to find out. Instead, she'd merely retreated, unable to hide the ache she felt.

Tears fell down her face, bitter tears. Through a haze of salty teardrops, she saw a figure approach. She blinked away the moisture from her eyes, but it returned just as quickly when she saw him.

Alaric had followed her, but she didn't have the strength or the will to stand and run. Cinderella closed her eyes, softly commanding her body to cease its trembling.

"Gwyn."

She lifted her head and looked at him suddenly, opened her mouth to correct him, but he shook his head and bent down next to her.

"Do you remember our promise?"

She nodded her head silently.

"I kept my end of the bargain."

"You…no, Sir, you did not." her voice cut harshly through her tears.

He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up one hand to silence him, continuing with a shaking voice, sitting board straight.

"I was a lowly servant, and I still am. I did not play a part, but you--you are a prince! You toyed with my heart and I…" she wiped the tears from her face, looking into his eyes with a clear gaze. "I fell for your trick."

"Oh, no, madam it was no trick!" He reached out to touch her, but recoiled his hand slowly. "You see, I fell for you, too. I meant to tell you the truth--I did, truly--but I was too content to enjoy your company as someone who didn't have obligations. I could not bring myself to ruin what we had with a title of royalty. And it took me a long time to realize the hurt it would cause when you found out…"

His voice faded as an expression of longing passed over his face.

"But at the ball--" she squeaked, her posture relaxing slightly.  
"Oh, I was an utter fool, a _fool_, not to recognize you! You were so changed, I--but surely you did not recognize _me_…?"

"I did, but only after the ball."

"Oh…" he bent his legs and sat back on his heels, looking so childish that Cinderella could not suppress the beginnings of a smile. "How can you ever forgive me?"

She looked into his pleading eyes, her tears all but gone, and studied him for a moment. Something wasn't right…She reached a hand up and combed a few locks of his hair across his damp forehead. It suited him.

Cinderella felt a smile spread across her lips as she sat for a moment, letting her words pass to him without having to say anything. Alaric seemed to rest easy under her gaze, and he leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek.

The same familiar jump of her pulse and the tingling of sparks flew down her neck. She closed her eyes and reveled in the warm touch on her face, the sigh of the wind against her stubborn hair. She opened her eyes as a crunch in the dirt caught her attention. Alaric's face was merely inches from hers, his eyes intent upon her.

Cinderella's cheeks burned as she felt herself gravitated towards him in the thrill of a first kiss.

A kiss from a prince…

She could easily fit in a fairy tale.

They parted, and Alaric moved to lean against the tree, pulling her to sit across his legs, her head against his chest.

"I've been waiting to kiss you for a long time." he leaned his head atop hers and sighed contentedly.

"And you wouldn't have if you hadn't chased after me. I must have been out of my mind!"

"Not out of your mind, just flustered, maybe. Angry for a reason." his breath blew against her hair as he chuckled slightly. "You've never looked more beautiful."

She looked up at him quizzically. "When, at the ball?"

He shook his head, a smile bringing a sparkle to his eyes.

"Just before I kissed you."

Cinderella smiled and met his lips, feeling ten times as beautiful as she had been in the enchanted dress at the ball.

- - -

**At last they meet!**

**This chapter was hard to write.**

**Especially the ending…**

**But fear not, loves! There shall be more chapters to come.**

**I will not leave you here, as the cartoon did, but go even more in-depth. Who knows how long this story could last?  
And indeed I do hope you enjoy the chapters to come.**

**(But don't get your hopes up, cause there might only be two more, at the most.)**

**So sorry to crush your hopes, love, but this story will not be everlasting, unfortunately, because eventually I'd run out of material, now wouldn't I?**

**Yes indeed.**

**Please leave reviews, lovies!**

**I adore you all.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Um…hello?**

**-is battered with signs on wooden posts-**

**EEP! You guys are on strike?!**

**-ducks to avoid death by sign post-**

**Apparently, yes.**

**I have my excuses!**

**It's fall break. Which is why I haven't had, um…time…to write…**

**-is hit in the head with a tomato-**

**-sigh- And everything was going so well…**

**Loves, forgive me. I am a lazy writer. **

**Mmm, tomato juice!**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Cinderella. If I did, I'd have tried to make the sequels better.**

**Claimer****: I own some names…but sadly, that's about it. **

Dream Come True

- - -

Chapter 11

- - -

"I'm terribly sorry, my love, but I was in such a hurry that I wasn't paying attention, and, well…" Alaric held up a shard of crystal clear glass.

"My glass slipper…" Cinderella's voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the cluster of sparkling pieces on the ground that once made up the most elegant shoe she'd ever worn.

"Are you terribly upset with me?" Alaric's face was flushed slightly, and she smiled, startling him as she let out a soft peal of laughter.

"What good is one shoe if you don't have the other to match?"

He sighed, relief pouring into his features as he took one of her hands in his own.

"I'll have to leave you alone for most of the day. I have paperwork that needs filling out, and my father's convinced me to visit some family along the way. I'm sure you'd rather stay here..."

"I'll be fine. I have a few things I need to pick up from my old home…and…" she paused for a moment, her mind whirling with thoughts. "Odd, though, isn't it? Calling that place my old home…"

"Not regretting it, are you?" he put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a direct stare. "Moving here? It's all so sudden, so I can understand."

"Of course I'm not regretting it! I can scarcely call that old pile of rock my home anyway." She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Run along, now! I want you home by supper."

Alaric laughed and pulled her into an embrace.

"You sound like a house wife already."

- - -

"Here goes nothing…" Cinderella sighed as she stepped down from the ornate carriage onto a familiar pattern of dusty cobblestones.

She gripped the handles on the suitcase she carried in each hand, and took bold, if not slightly shaky, steps toward the immense wooden doors. She contemplated knocking, but convinced herself she was not a guest and let herself in.

Cinderella waited for a moment, listening with a start to the silence around her. Drizella and Anastasia were not bickering, and Lady Tremaine's nagging had ceased. As she made her way slowly up the main hall stairs, she saw that all three bedroom doors were closed. Her shoes tapped loudly against the hard marble floor, and the echoes seemed like thunder in the muffled silence of the hall.

"Drizella, is that you?" Lady Tremaine's voice made Cinderella gasp, nearly jumping with surprise. "I instructed you to stay in your room!"

Cinderella did not answer, but stood very still…frozen. She watched as the door handle turned, and her stepmother's face appeared suddenly, a scowl creasing her forehead.

"Dri--" Her voice cracked and faded as her eyes fell on Cinderella. "You…" The scowl fell from her face, and instead was replaced with an expression of awe.

For once in her life, Lady Tremaine had been struck speechless. Cinderella could not suppress the smile that spread across her face as she drank it all in.

"Mother, I'm in my room! I haven't left!" Drizella's door flew open as she stuck her head out into the hall.

Her eyes rested on her mother's face for a moment, an expression of utter confusion creasing her brow until she followed Lady Tremaine's gaze.

"Cinderella!" she cried in surprise.

Anastasia was soon peering around her door, and Cinderella blushed slightly, not used to being the object of such speculation. She turned on her heel, purposefully putting her nose in the air as she walked away from her dumbfounded stepfamily and into the stairwell.

Once she reached her room at the top of the stairs, she let her eyes rest on its stillness for a moment. It was such a simple room with the plainest furniture. She was met with surprise, however, when she saw what was sitting on her bed.

Her old faithful friend Bruno was sprawled out across the tattered and worn quilt, and close to his nose, sitting on top of her pillow, was none other than Lucifer.

"Oh!" The suitcases fell from her hands as she bolted to the bed and wrapped her arms around Bruno's furry neck.

The dog awoke with a start and began licking her face.

"I missed you so much, Bruno!" She reached a hand over and rubbed behind Lucifer's ears gently. "And you too, you ol' rascal."

Lucifer stood and shook his head, offended that she'd discovered him there. He jumped down from the bed and began stalking from the room with his tail in the air. Cinderella laughed, realizing that even the ornery cat had longed for her return.

"He probably missed having someone to pester."

So absorbed in attending to Bruno, Cinderella never noticed the soft footsteps at her door.

"Um…Cinderella?"

The soft coo of the voice caught her attention, and she looked up to see Anastasia standing her doorway. She was staring at the floor, her face a deep shade of magenta. She held a suitcase in each hand.

"What's wrong, Anastasia?" Cinderella stayed where she was on the bed, her hand stopping its rhythm against Bruno's fur.

Her stepsister shifted her weight from one foot to the other before speaking.

"Well, I…I knew mother would never let me, so I'm eloping."

Cinderella felt as though she would fall off the bed.

"Eloping…with the baker?"

Anastasia nodded, her face turning a darker shade of pink.

"And you need a way to get there?"

She nodded again.

"I can help. Let me pack my things."

And so while Cinderella moved about her room, sorting through the few simple cotton dresses she owned, Anastasia talked. She plopped herself down next to Bruno, patting his head absently as she spoke to Cinderella about her Oswin, the baker. She found herself enjoying the kindest most satisfying conversation Cinderella had ever shared with Anastasia. It was as if the past decade had never occurred, and they were both on the same level. Friends, almost.

It was with confidence that Cinderella led them both down the endless spiral of stairs and past the screeching Lady Tremaine, out the front doors and into the ornate carriage. Her stepmother's words did not pierce the cold shoulder Cinderella gave her, but once the carriage door was shut and the shouts of the woman subsided, Anastasia broke down into sobs.

"There's no need to cry. You've done it! You're free!"

"Oh, I know that…I'm n-not afraid of what Mother thinks anymore," She sniffed and continued, "I n-never got to ask Oswin if he'd want to…to marry—Oh, what will I do?"

Cinderella put a hand on her stepsister's shaking shoulders, lost for words. She didn't know the feelings of this man, so what right had she to get the girl's hopes up if she would be turned down? She contemplated for a moment where Anastasia would stay if, in fact, she was rejected, for surely she couldn't return to that awful dungeon of a home. She didn't have time to think of a place other than the royal castle as the carriage came to a halt.

"Main Street, Ma'am!" the footman's voice was muffled through the wood and cushioned interior of the coach.

Cinderella attempted to give her stepsister a comforting smile, but it did not seem to calm Anastasia as she instructed the coachman to wait with the luggage at the end of the street.

Cinderella watched anxiously, feeling a sick tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach, and realizing with a start that she was genuinely worried about her stepsister.

Anastasia tapped on the window gently with trembling fingers, and the baker inside looked up from the dough he was pounding. His bright blue eyes were instantly lit with a warm smile as he abandoned the bread dough and made his way quickly out to the porch, paying no attention to the large white carriage that waited just outside the store front. Cinderella felt like she was invading their privacy, but he didn't seem to notice her either.

His eyes seemed to be fixed upon Anastasia's flushed face.

"I came to see you, Oswin…" Anastasia's voice shook slightly as she clasped her hands behind her back nervously.

"And I am always glad to see you, Anna, but what's wrong?" He reached out to touch her arm, but pulled his hand back, brushing flour off with a slight flush to his cheeks.

"Well, I…I left home."

"Well done! If you don't mind me saying, I never did like your mother." He smiled as he looked into her face with a twinkle in his eyes.

Anastasia managed to laugh softly, but it faded quickly as she swallowed, gathering her words.

"I didn't just leave home because of her, Oswin." She lowered her voice until it was barely audible. "I left for you."

Oswin reached forward and pulled Anastasia suddenly into a tight embrace, releasing her after a pause and placed his powdered hands on both of her shoulders.

"Why didn't I think of it before? Of course! It's perfect. We'll leave together. Right this instant. Right now!" He took one of her hands in his and leaned down, kissing the fingers gently. "Anna, my dear, I love you!"

Cinderella found herself smiling, inwardly screaming praises at the plump man before her. She never thought he could look so gentlemanly than in that very moment.

- - -

"Here you are, then." Cinderella handed both suitcases to Anastasia, and she paused for a moment, looking into her stepsister's face.

"Thanks." Anastasia said.

She looked uneasy for a moment as she returned her gaze, but Cinderella smiled gently, placing her hand on her stepsister's arm for only an instant.

And that was all she needed, it seemed, for her stepsister was soon grinning once more at Oswin as he helped her up into the driver's seat of the simple horse cart. Cinderella waved gaily to the couple as they trotted away down the street, in the opposite direction of home.

After they'd gone, Cinderella directed the carriage home, and on the way as her head bounced gently against the cushioned seats she let her thoughts drift easily.

In the past hour she'd grown closer to her stepsister than she'd been in the years she lived in that house as a servant. Anastasia certainly hadn't apologized or given some sort of payment for the years of torment and unhappiness, but Cinderella felt in that small instant when her stepsister's eyes were lit with a smile meant for her alone, that she'd finally come to forgive her.

It was something she might not share with Drizella, and certainly not her stepmother, but it helped to know she still had a possibility, that small moment in time when it only took a smile to take back years of bitterness.

The carriage halted at the castle entrance, and she sighed, denying the coachman's offers to carry her luggage, and made her way slowly back into her new home.

- - -

Her wedding was to take place the following week, and all the servants were in a tizzy. Everything had to be perfect, perfect!

All at once Cinderella was forced to try on thousands of wedding dresses and model them before a whole roomful of cooing maids and muttering butlers as opposed to experienced fashion designers or the actual maker of the dresses. Cinderella entrusted Bridgett to find the people whose opinions she trusted most, and her maid had chosen the best maids and butlers in the entire castle.

Not only did she have to choose the perfect gown but she had to pick a matching set of jewelry from piles of boxes that took up nearly half of her bedchamber. There were invitations to sign, people to meet, and it was all just too much.

"What's on the schedule today, Bridgett?" Cinderella asked her maid underneath layers of thick blankets.

"Well, Miss, you have another package of jewelry that arrived today, and His Majesty has ordered them specially from two towns over. You also still have one last selection of dresses to fit, and measurements are to be taken to make a gown for the reception. Oh, and you and His Highness, the prince, are to go about the town and distribute the invitations you finished yesterday as soon as he returns from ."

After a pause, Cinderella finally emerged from her cave of quilts, squinting in the morning sunlight.

"Anything else?" she rubbed her eyes sleepily as Bridgett flipped through the schedule sheets.

"Ah! Here's something…"

Cinderella groaned softly.

"And this one's important! It's a wonder I missed it at all. His Majesty has invited your family to dine with us this evening."

"My family?" Cinderella sat bolt upright under Bridgett's wide-eyed gaze.

"Yes, Miss. It's all here on the page…" She handed the stacks of papers to Cinderella.

She scanned the page frantically until she came a list of names close to the bottom under the label "Dinner Guests."

"Ms. Madonna Tremaine," Cinderella paused, staring fixedly at her stepmother's first name for a moment before continuing, "Miss Drizella Tremaine and Miss Anastasia Tremaine…"

Her voice trailed off as her eyes scanned the next two names. Her thoughts became an angry swirl of memories, and she waited a moment to calm herself before speaking.

"Inform His Majesty that my step-uncle Garrett and his nephew Jeb will not attend dinner tonight."

"Are you sure, Miss?"

"Oh, quite sure, Bridgett. That will be all. I can dress myself this morning."

Once the maid had closed the door, Cinderella tossed her covers aside and stormed to her mirror. She would never set eyes on that wretch of a step-cousin again, especially not after his attentions toward her the last time they met. And if he came again, Alaric wouldn't be here to protect her.

The thought of the prince soothed her nerves, her memories waltzing to the tune of her first dance with him.

"Miss!" Bridgett's voice was muffled from behind the door.

"Yes?" Cinderella sighed, brushing her hair absently as she pulled herself slowly from the daydream into which she'd lapsed.

"The dresses are here for you to fit, and the jewelry, too."

"Send them in…" Cinderella hadn't dressed, but she realized it was no use anyway, for she'd be changing into a dress soon enough.

After two hours of lacing, readjusting, and modeling numerous gowns, Cinderella finally chose her dress. She gazed at herself in the mirror, satisfied with the reflection that smiled back at her. It was the least elaborate of the dresses she'd tried on so far. The bodice was decorated with intricate swirls of tiny sparkling beads that glittered cheerfully at her in the sunlight. The gown fell to the floor from the waist in soft, smooth layers of silk that lay heavily against the many layers of fine lace petticoats. She'd chosen a thin veil of the same silk fabric the dress was made of, and it seemed to hug her flushed cheeks as she walked up and down the room. Tiny white slippers were fitted exactly to her size, but were hidden by the immense skirt.

She stepped back for a moment, taking her eyes off of the details. She didn't look thin. The long sleeves of the gown were fitted to form against the skin, yet her elbows didn't seem to stick out like they normally did. The veil softened her sharp cheekbones, the bodice was tight against her torso, but the sparkling beads seemed to guide the eye away from the fact that she really had no meat on her bones. Her blue eyes shone brightly against the contrasting purple flowers in the bouquet and atop her veil.

It really was all too much, but she blushed at her reflection, curtseying to the beautiful lady contained within the glass.

"I'd hardly recognize you, Miss!" Bridgett clapped excitedly beside her, and the other butlers and maids seemed to agree that it was decidedly the dress to be worn at the wedding.

"And now for the jewels!" Miles, one of the head butlers, stood with a velvet box raised above his head, and shouts of consent went through the selected crowd of workers.

"Oh, but do you really think I need it?" Cinderella turned towards them all, feeling perfectly at ease to speak her opinion. "I mean, look at this collar. It's a v-neck, and though I don't have much to show, I don't think I _need_ some priceless gem hanging from a silver chain…"

"His Majesty ordered all those jewels just for you, Miss." One of the maids spoke from the back of the large sitting room.

"Yes, I know, but—oh, wait right here!" Cinderella picked up her skirts, leaving the ornate shoes behind as she bolted for the door to the hallway.

Shouts of protest rose in the room, but she kept going, a frantic Bridgett at her heels trying to grasp the train of her dress so as not to get it dusty. What a sight it must have been to see a woman running about the castle in her wedding gown. She chuckled to herself as a few passing maids stared at her with wide-eyed, shocked expressions.

"I have just the thing…" Cinderella said as she burst into her bedchamber, ignoring her maid's pleas and soft scolding words.

She bent down to reach under the bed, but Bridgett stepped in the way.

"Oh, Miss!" She held her hands out as if begging, her face was flushed from chasing after Cinderella. "Please let me get it for you! You are making quite a scene, and more importantly you're wrinkling this beautiful gown."

Cinderella waved her hands as if dismissing the facts.

"There's a box underneath the bed. It's a small gray silk box. Don't open it, but just hand it here."

Bridgett fished out the box and placed it gently in Cinderella's outstretched hands.

"And I'll try to be more careful on the way back, but you'll see why I'm so excited, Bridgett, you really will!"

She slowed her pace, making her way gracefully back to the buzzing sitting room. Everyone looked up when she entered, many faces looking with disapproval at the shabby box she carried. Others were covering their mouths to smother laughter.

"I remembered I had this…" She moved to the front of the room and opened the gray box for everyone to see.

Many of the men looked on it with disapproval, remarking how the silver was tarnished, and how it would have just been easier to choose from the new sets. The women, however, cooed and gasped as they came closer to look at the gems inlaid in the ornate silver jewelry.

"It's a beautiful shade of purple!"

"Oh, it matches the bouquet!"

"Just look at the way the gems are cut…"

"What is it, Cinderella?" one of the shorter maids asked, her eyes lit with the same fascination as the other women.

"It's genuine amethyst. A beautiful gem, don't you think? Prettier than diamonds, almost."

The women nodded emphatically.

"And cheaper, too!"

The men's ears were perked, and some of them stood to take another look at the jewelry.

"Needs polishin'!" The oldest butler in the room said as he squinted at the tarnished silver. "An' I'd be the one to do it, but me eyesight ain't too good. Me wife'll do the job well, Miss."

"That I will!" The head maid said heartily as she took the box gingerly from Cinderella's fingers. "You'll be seein' that pretty face of yours on the silver when I'm through with it."

"Well, thank you for your help, all, but Cinderella has a long day ahead of her." Bridgett curtseyed to her coworkers as they dismissed themselves to start their daily duties.

They found themselves alone in the sitting room at last, but Cinderella's maid broke the silence with an unfortunate reminder of all she had to do.

"One item down, three more to go!" Bridgett smiled gaily as she moved to shut the door.

"Honestly, I don't know how I'll adjust to this kind of living…" Cinderella sighed heavily as she bent her arm through the collar of her dress to unhook the top of her corset.

- - -

**So?**

**So??**

**Yes, I know…I got a little carried away with the dress and all, but it was fun!  
**

**Probably not the most well-written and thought out chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.**

**Thanks for reading, and just to show how much you love me, you'll leave a review.**

**You will, won't you?**

**Cause…you love me, right?**

**-crickets-**

**Right.**

**Thanks for boosting my esteem, guys.**


	12. Chapter 12

Um...please don't kill me.

If you did, you know...you'd never get updates again. Ever.

And, er, this one's kind of short.

-ducks to avoid torrent of art easles-

I'm sorry, but I do have a life!

Disclaimer: I don't own Cinderella and said characters, but I do own some of them...er, well, at least their new tendency to go OOC. Yay for that.

Please try to enjoy...

- - -

Dream Come True

Chapter 12

- - -

"His Highness the prince has just arrived, Miss!" Bridgett stuck her head through the door, startling Cinderella from the small nap she was taking atop the pile of signed invitations.

"Oh, right…" she muttered groggily as she fussed with her hair and wrinkled dress, reaching down to place the last invitation in an envelope and sealing it with dripping red wax, just as she'd done fifty-five times before.

It had been monotonous and tiring, but most of all it hadn't been very comfortable falling asleep in the dress the maid had chosen for her to wear as she greeted the invitees. It was a dark shade of green with black lace trimming and black buttons down the front. She had matching green ribbons woven all throughout her hair that was piled gracefully around her head in golden ringlets. Cinderella glanced at her pale and lace-imprinted face for a moment before dismissing any possibilities of making herself look more presentable.

She hurried down endless flights of stairs and hallways and into the arms of Alaric, who had been waiting by the carriage patiently. He took her hand and helped her step up into the high curricle.

"My, aren't you lovely today!" he exclaimed, his eyes moving up and down her figure as she stepped through the small door.

Cinderella laughed, not bothering to point out the red marks on her face from dozing on her sleeve.

"Aren't you tired of riding in carriages all day?" She took his hand in hers and gazed at his tired and drooping eyes.

"Exhausted…you have no idea how bad the roads are in between towns. Nobody bothers to fill in the potholes." She opened her mouth to suggest an alternative, but Alaric shook his head and squeezed her hand gently. "I'll be fine as long as I'm with you, Cinderella."

Her face flushed involuntarily, looking out the window with a silent smile as the coachman whipped the horses into motion.

- - -

The day couldn't have gone any slower. Each stop they made, they were required to personally deliver each invitation, and almost every home felt obligated to invite them in for a short cup of tea. Conversation mostly centered around the upcoming wedding, and Cinderella soon found herself falling into a steady routine of default answers. Her cheeks were sore from smiling, her sides ached from restricted breathing from her corset in the hot weather, and her mind had succumbed to a numbed state.

"Cinderella?" Alaric's voice brought her slowly back from miles away in her thoughts.

"Hm?" she grunted.

"I love you."

She sighed and leaned against his chest. "And I'll love you more when we can get all this over with."

He took a moment to search through the bag and count the remaining letters.

"Five more letters and then we can retire."

She gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"_You_ can look forward to a relaxing evening, but I still have to try on my reception dress for the last time, take final measurements and alterations, and choose the menu for the reception meal…" she paused, thinking. "And speaking of meals, we have to eat dinner with my stepfamily this evening."

She looked up at Alaric, whose face was twisted into a grimace.

"Oh, don't worry," she laughed, "Anastasia eloped with the baker, so we'll only have to deal with one stepsister and my ornery stepmother."

"Well that's a relief!" Alaric said in a flat voice.

- - -

Cinderella had gathered her wits on the way to Lady Tremaine's abode, which they'd inevitably put off until the end. She couldn't have done it, however, without her prince standing so close beside her.

"Take my hand, and you'll be fine." Alaric said comfortingly as he helped her down from the carriage. "Don't tremble, my love…" he whispered softly in her ear as they approached the front door.

Cinderella pulled the bell rope with shaking fingers, her eyes fixed on the large brass handle, waiting as footsteps approached from inside.

"Courage." Alaric muttered to her, pressing her fingers to his lips briefly.

She took deep breaths, trying to bring back that bravery she'd shown only the previous day. She hadn't spoken a single word to Lady Tremaine. Cinderella had simply taken Anastasia under her wing with silent confidence. She'd aided in her stepsister's elopement, and not a single scream of harsh words from her stepmother could have stopped her.

But now she felt her confidence slipping as the brass handle finally turned slowly. She wondered suddenly what her stepmother would do. Cinderella watched as the door slowly opened, clenching her leg muscles, ready to run if need be.

Drizella's pudgy, slightly pink face peered around the side of the wide wooden door. Her eyes were swollen from crying.

"Hello, Cinderella." She said softly, her eyes widening as they fell on the regal figure attached to Cinderella's arm. "Good afternoon, Your Highness."

Drizella moved to present him with a deep curtsy, but Alaric held up his hand.

"No need to be so formal, Miss Tremaine. Cinderella and I are merely here to present you with an invitation to the wedding ceremony taking place next week," he placed the envelope in Drizella's outstretched hand, "And also to extend a hand of welcome to join us for dinner this evening around seven o' clock."

"Well, I…I suppose we'll come. Mother's not well today, and--" Drizella's eyes filled with genuine tears once more.

She fell silent, her body shaking with sobs as she gripped the door firmly to keep from toppling to the floor. She held the back of her hand up to her nose, her tears dripping onto the sealed envelope she grasped between white-knuckled fingers.

"We should call a doctor." Cinderella spoke the words without thinking, and Drizella seemed to brighten, her sobs subsiding somewhat as she nodded emphatically.

Cinderella turned, leaving Alaric to say a few awkward words to her crying stepsister. She called to the footman, and he approached with a polite bow.

"If you could ask a particular doctor on South Street to come as soon as possible, I would greatly appreciate it."

The footman bowed once more and jumped onto the running board as the carriage was whipped into swift motion.

The doctor arrived shortly, his face showing the same disapproval as before. He helped himself down from the carriage and eyed Cinderella with a curious expression as he approached.

"What seems to be the problem, miss?"

"Lady Tremaine is ill, apparently. Drizella can tell you more if you will be so kind as to follow me inside…"

The doctor's face showed recognition as she spoke, and she thought she saw a pleased sparkle appear in his eyes when she spoke Drizella's name.

Her stepsister's face lit with a smile despite the tears that poured down her cheeks when her eyes fell on the doctor.

"Harris." Drizella's voice squeaked as she held out her hand to him in greeting.

The doctor took her hand in his, kissing it gently before standing upright with a serious expression. He seemed to gather his wits, his eyes resuming their normal disapproving stare as he took deep breath before asking numerous businesslike questions.

"How is your stepmother feeling? What are her symptoms? How long has she been sick? Have you kept a hot water bottle by her feet? What about the fire, has it been taken care of?"

Drizella seemed to struggle with ever answer, but it all did not sound so well for Lady Tremaine.

"I must see her at once!"

Harris took long strides to follow Cinderella's stepsister who jogged ahead up the steps with quick gasping breaths. Cinderella's heart seemed to wither when they entered her stepmother's bedroom. An ungodly stench reached her nose as she stepped over the threshold. She felt Alaric's grip on her arm tighten slightly, and his face paled only briefly, but Drizella didn't seem to notice the smell at all as she let loose a stuttering torrent of questions and excuses.

"I d-didn't know what to do. She's oh-so cold, but she's sweating, and she moans when I move the blankets—and I didn't have time to chop firewood. Harris, what d-did I do wrong? I only tried to help! I only tried--" Her face collapsed into her hands as she sobbed helplessly by her mother's bedside.

"There, there, Drizella…" Harris, the doctor, said as he picked up Lady Tremaine's wrist, examining his watch while he felt her pulse. "You and her highness will go and build a proper fire." He looked up at Cinderella with a pleading expression, and she nodded, taking her sniffling stepsister from the room.

"Now, Your Highness, if you would be so kind, I need your help turning this woman onto her side so I can listen to her heart…"

Cinderella shivered in spite of herself as a pained moan echoed down the hallway.

Drizella's fingers were cold to the touch as Cinderella led her quickly into the kitchen, away from the noise.

"Take this axe and come outside with me. We need to chop firewood."

"B-but your pretty dress!" Drizella stood still, gazing down at the laced fabric.

"Oh…" Cinderella found it odd that Drizella could only think of clothes during such a crisis, but she found herself smiling. "I have so many other dresses, I'm sure my maid won't mind…"

She looked up and smiled at her astonished stepsister, and managed a small smile before grabbing the axe from Drizella's hand and leaving the kitchen.

…

Cinderella found her arms were still used to the feel of an axe, and she almost found she enjoyed it much more than signing invitations. In this job, at least, she could be messy and let the wood chips cover the front of her dress and grab tufts of her hair as they flew by.

"That should be enough." Cinderella said breathlessly, wiping sweat from her brow as she dropped the axe and grabbed an armful of scented cedar wood.

They hauled their heavy load up the steps and through the door, attempting to ignore the sounds coming from her bedridden stepmother and the two gentleman who discussed something in lowered tones.

It took them only moments to bring the fire to an almost unbearable height.

"Is that what you need, Doctor?" Cinderella stood and distanced herself from the tall flames, her head spinning slightly with the effort.

"Yes, thank you."

For the first time that evening, Cinderella finally looked at her stepmother, but only regretted it once she had.

While Alaric and Harris pushed hot water bottles against all exposed skin on her stepmother, Cinderella stood to the side, suddenly kept interested by the horrors she saw.

Lady Tremaine's skin was a soft shade of gray, and every part of her seemed to be covered in droplets of sweat. The clothes she wore were drenched with it. Her face was pale, the eyes surrounded by dark circles and her lips white with the effort, it seemed, to keep her mouth closed. Every now and then, when the men were forced to move her even an inch, she would let out a soft moan.

Cinderella felt her stomach twisting itself into knots. The stench was overwhelming.

All her life, she had always looked upon Lady Tremaine with an impression of monstrous pride and dignity, a terrifyingly intimidating woman. Yet that same witch of a lady was before her, withered and pale, too weak to lift a finger or blink an eye.

Whether this moment was Lady Tremaine's last, Cinderella would never see her with the same eye again.

…

It seemed an eternity before Alaric and Doctor Harris seated themselves with defeated sighs. They were on their third hour, and Lady Tremaine's condition remained unchanged. Between them, both the prince and the doctor had exhausted all of their ideas.

Drizella leaned her head against the cool of the marble hearth, breathing heavily next to the red hot embers of a dying fire.

"I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do." Doctor Harris's voice was nearly a whisper, but Drizella started as if she'd been hit with the fire tongs.

"What do we do--" Drizella began, but she was interrupted by a soft sound from Lady Tremaine's lips. "Mother!"

Drizella stood and bolted to her mother's side, clasping her hand and looking into the pale face eagerly as the white lips began to form words.

Drizella leaned forward and placed her ear directly over her mother's lips, drinking in every whisper and repeating it aloud.

"I know now this is my last breath," Drizella's eyes filled with tears as she continued, "Tell my brother I wish him well, and--" she paused for a moment and looked up at Cinderella. "She wants you."

Cinderella took hesitant steps forward, staring into her stepmother's face, watching as her eyes fluttered open slowly. Even though Lady Tremaine's illness was so advanced, her gaze still held some authority.

"Take care of my daughters, Cinderella." Her voice had regained some of its strength, but it faded away as she continued to speak, "And keep the house in fit repair…"

"Yes, Stepmother." Cinderella sat for a moment, watching as Lady Tremaine's eyes closed and fluttered until she ceased to move at all.

"NO!" Drizella grabbed her mother's limp hand and pressed it to her face as she sobbed heavily.

Doctor Harris came to her side and put his arm around her shaking shoulders, crooning words of comfort into her ear.

"Come, Cinderella. It's time to go." Alaric's touch sent shivers down her spine as she suddenly realized it was all real.

Her stepmother, Lady Tremaine, the woman who'd smothered all pleasantness from her life, was…dead.

A sudden flare of anger burst within her, and she felt the urge to move, to flee…to forget, but his hand lead her from the room and down the stairs.

Cinderella moved as if in a daze, her actions merely determined by other forces, not of her own will but simply out of the fact that she_had _to move.

"Cinderella…" Again, his voice called her back from the dream-like state she was in, and she looked at him, suddenly alert. "Cinderella," he repeated her name, and she was suddenly feeling childishly irritated.

"What?" she snapped.

"Aren't you going to cry? You must grieve some time. It isn't good to keep it all in…" He placed his hand on her knee, and she brushed it off, glaring at him pointedly.

"I don't need to cry. I don't love that woman. And she never loved me. Did you hear her? The last thing she said—the very last—was an order. As if I still lived there! As if I cared, as if--"

She broke off, tears bursting from her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Her mind was a terrifying swirl of emotions, and her heart fluttered uneasily beneath her ribcage.

"Oh _god_, Alaric, help me…tell me what I should feel…" Cinderella sobbed as she let herself be pulled into a warm embrace.

- - -

It wasn't terrible, was it?

-barely escapes cloud of flying daggers-

Alright I get the point!

-waves a white flag-

I surrender!

The next chapter will be better, I PROMISE!!

Shall we call it a Ceasefire and swap reviews as a sign of peace?

Better make it two just to make sure...


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm a little disappointed with myself. **

**I really apologize for making you wait, friends. I've so enjoyed all of your reviews. I love love LOVE reviews!**

**This chapter's not as good as others, just as a warning. I've been traveling all day so maybe that lingering car sickness is dampening my creativity…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but this plot…well, it's entirely mine. **

Dream Come True

Chapter 13

- - -

"What do you mean you're not coming, Alaric?" Cinderella looked up at him threateningly.

"Well, I…I just don't feel right going. I—Cinderella, you know I never liked the woman…"

"Neither did I and I'm still going." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ground, twisting her heel into a crack between the cobblestones.

After a pause she looked up, her tensed face relaxing slightly as their eyes met.

"Besides…" she sighed and uncrossed her arms, clasping one of his hands, "I need you there."

Alaric nodded and gently pulled her into an embrace.

- - -

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Lady Madonna Tremaine. In life, her spirit was as beautiful as it was giving…" The priest continued, but Cinderella willfully blocked his words.

She could not listen to any lies about her stepmother. Cinderella knew as well as anyone that Lady Tremaine was not a beautiful woman, neither in spirit, nor in physical appearance. She had known first-hand the true nature of that cold witch, and as she stared fixedly at the coffin as it was lowered into its grave, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

Cinderella clasped Alaric's hand, stifling the same guilt that filled her as she knew there were no tears she could spare for her stepmother. She would not miss her, she knew that much.

A sound startled her from her thoughts, and she jumped with surprise.

"Cinderella," Anastasia was saying by her side, "I just wanted to thank you for all you've done. No words can express the happiness I feel…"

Cinderella saw a glitter in Anastasia's dull blue eyes as she looked towards her husband, Oswin.

Cinderella said nothing, but simply grasped her stepsister's hand and nodded with a kind smile.

"Will you grieve?" She almost choked on the words.

Anastasia thought for a moment before speaking.

"She's the only mother I had, Cinderella, but I will in time, maybe. Don't torture yourself. I won't ever understand what you're going through, but don't blame yourself for feeling happy that she's gone."

Cinderella was stunned, speechless, but simply pulled her stepsister into an quick embrace.

She approached Drizella with hesitation, not willing to pull her away from the doctor whom she clung to lovingly. Her stepsister's face was a mixture of emotions, but she, too, seemed not to have any more tears to cry.

"Drizella…" Cinderella whispered as not to startle the distracted girl, "I'm, um…assuming dinner is cancelled for this evening?"

Drizella looked up at the doctor who smiled encouragingly.

"Yes, I seem to have other plans."

- - -

"What's on your schedule for today?" Alaric took her arm and escorted her to the front door.

"Well, other than last-minute menus and measurements…nothing." She looked up at him with a broad smile. "That's the first time these past few days I've had free time."

"Let's do something!" Alaric's face lit up in a childish grin.

"What, then?"

"I'll think about it…"

As they stepped through the doors, an immense booming voice rang in their ears, startling them both.

"So this is the girl!"

Cinderella's eyes fell on a plump figure making his way up the carpeted stairs. A golden crown glittered on the man's white-haired head.

"Good morning father." Alaric called down to him.

"Father…" Cinderella's mind whirred for a moment, "Oh! Your majesty!" She pulled her arm from Alaric's hold and moved to curtsy.

"There, there, girl." The king held out a hand in protest, panting as he reached the top step. "Foolish of me, really. This whole household's been so busy preparing for my son's marriage that I haven't found time to meet you!"

Alaric's father laughed heartily, the golden chain of his watch tapping against his large stomach. She wondered absently how the many buttons on his blue dress jacket managed to hold fast against the friendly gentleman's midsection. He took Cinderella's hand in two of his large warm palms and beamed into her face.

"A beautiful girl, indeed! Alaric has told me all about you, so don't worry, I approve of this marriage." His laughter was infectious, and soon the great entrance hall was filled with echoes of their mirth.

"And what of your wife, your majesty?" Cinderella regretted speaking once the words were out of her mouth.

The king's face fell suddenly, and Alaric grew quiet.

"She passed on a few years ago, but aye, she would have been proud to see the wife her son has chosen!"

Cinderella was suddenly pulled into a rib-crushing hug, and she knew all was forgiven for her untimely remark.

"I always berated Alaric for going out in public in disguise, but he had good reason." The king took her arm and led her down the stairs as he spoke. "You see, as royalty, no one treats you right. They put you on a pedestal, which doesn't let you live a normal life. Granted, Alaric has lived a sheltered life, but he ain't dimwitted."

Alaric's father broke once more into bellows of laughter. Cinderella turned to grin back at Alaric, whose face matched the crimson carpet beneath their feet.

"Now then, Cinderella my dear, I have important business to attend to. As the king, it is inevitable that anything I enjoy will be interrupted by 'business.'" He shuddered dramatically as he said the word.

A servant came from a small door to the left and approached the king with a sealed letter.

"Ah, right on time Luna." He took the letter from the silver platter and waved amiably to his son and future daughter-in-law. "I leave you two to your own devices."

Cinderella curtseyed politely and laughed as the king protested loudly, muttering "too proper for her own good" as he followed the servant down a long hallway.

She turned, watching Alaric's half spiteful expression as he watched his father leave.

"I like him." She smiled impishly as Alaric looked at her in disbelief.

"He loves to embarrass me…"

"Oh, tosh, he loves you."

Alaric said nothing, but simply took her by the hand, his face brightening suddenly.

"Would you like to see the castle? You're going to have to get to know it someday…"

"Lead the way!"

- - -

Cinderella's head swirled with a confusion of numerous corridors and flights of stairs. She couldn't seem to keep it all straight. There were countless drawing rooms, innumerable guest bedrooms, and she discovered, after all that, they hadn't even explored more than half of the entire castle.

"You grew up here? How did you not get lost?"

They turned down another corridor and walked up a small flight of steps. Alaric did not answer, but simply kept walking. She found herself in a hallway that was completely different from any other place they had seen. The portraits on the wall were no longer of old stiff people from years past. The frames in this hallway held pleasant scenes of green fields, mountains, riverbeds. The walls were a light shade of blue.

"Let me show you my favorite room."

Alaric turned an ornate doorknob and pushed the dark green door forward, letting it creak open to bump lightly against the wall.

Cinderella's eyes fell on the smallest room she had seen yet. The walls were covered in a friendly light green color. Each wall was plastered with childish, hand painted flowers and ghoulish dragons. The furniture was simple with no extra detailed paintings or decorative fabric, and the values of each piece, many of them scarred and beaten, were less than valuable.

As soon as she stepped across the threshold, she could sense the change in atmosphere. Sunlight beamed cheerfully through pale yellow curtains and bounced off the scarred and scratched oak floor. Stuffed toys, chess sets, badminton racquets, and marbles were scattered in corners of the room and on the plain four-poster bed, whose rods were without curtains.

"It's so different." Cinderella remarked as she studied the paintings on the wall, each one with the letters "A.M." scribbled in charcoal near the bottom.

"That's why I love it. None of the servants come to this wing anymore. I come here when I need some simplicity. These halls hold all my childhood memories." Alaric stepped over to his bookshelf, pulling out a picture book and flipping through its dusty pages. "Things were easy back then."

Cinderella laughed in spite of herself.

"Not for me." She moved to stand next to him, peering down at the faded dragon pictures in the book.

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have said that." Alaric put his arm around her waist, frowning slightly as he put the book back in its place on the shelf.

"I shouldn't be bitter." She shook her head as if to toss the memories aside. "I can only look forward two days from now."

"Our wedding!" Alaric grinned.

"Oh, dear…I'm sure my maid is having a fit looking for me. I have a dress to fit, and of course I have to choose what jewelry to wear before, during, and after the wedding. And then there's the courtesy letters--"

"Hush." Alaric smirked, silencing her further with a kiss.

- - -

"Wake up, Miss!"

Cinderella was interrupted from a pleasant dream. She'd been sitting alone in silence in Alaric's old bedroom. Oh, how she wished…

"Cinderella, Miss! You have much to do today."

The covers were yanked from her suddenly, and she was forced to sit up, rubbing her eyes with a yawn.

"What's on the list for today Bridgett?"

Cinderella half-listened as her maid read the lengthy list of chores to be accomplished on only one day.

"The ballroom must be cleaned and prepared for the reception, oh, but you needn't worry about that. Foolish of me! I was reading from the servant's list. Yes, well…" she flipped through a few pages, mumbling to herself, "Ah! Here we are. You are to decide the orientation of the tables, and also, you must decide which people will be joining you at the High Table."

Cinderella's ears perked. Her hand froze on the brush she'd been yanking through her coarse hair.

"The ballroom has to be cleaned you say?"

"Yes, Miss, but that's no concern…"

"I'll do it!" Cinderella dropped her brush on the dresser, and Bridgett nearly dropped the entire stack of papers in surprise.

"But Miss Cinderella…you can't!"

"And why not? Oh, please Bridgett, let me help…I do so want to."

Bridgett couldn't refuse the pleading look Cinderella gave her.

"I suppose Miles would not disagree…"

"What are we waiting for, then? We have jobs to do!"

Bridgett laughed gaily as Cinderella tossed her fist in the air dramatically.

- - -

Cinderella nearly tore her entire closet apart to find a simple gown she could work in, but eventually resorted to borrow one of Bridgett's maid uniforms in frustration.

Bridgett was reluctant, but she could not deny the princess.

Cinderella found that even after what seemed like an eternity, a broom still felt natural in her calloused hands. Her muscles still knew what to do with a brush and a bucket of soapy water. Bitter as she had been at her old home, she found that if she cleaned of her own free will, she found it exhilarating.

"You're working very hard, Miss." A cleaning maid said softly, offering to take over for Cinderella.

"Honestly, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't enjoy it." Cinderella smiled, putting the girl at ease.

"Has anyone seen my daughter-in-law?" A thunderous voice echoed throughout the ballroom, the chandeliers above tinkling slightly with the vibrations.

Cinderella looked up to see the ruddy face of the king as he scanned the room, his fierce brown eyes demanding attention.

She cleared her throat softly, waiting for him to turn his eyes in her direction.

"Ah, yes, you there. Where is…" the king paused, his eyes scanning her beaming face. "Why, by George, it's you!"

Cinderella grinned and stood gracefully before the king, proud of her trick.

"You had me, my dear. What ever are you doing? You'll put my servants out of business if you do this kind of thing more often." He chuckled heartily. "My son has been looking for you. He's outside in the garden."

Cinderella expressed her gratitude and slowly placed the scrub brush back in the bottom of the overflowing bucket before wiping her hands and making her way to the outside.

The sun surprised her with its intensity, and she stood still for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust. As the world around her came into focus, she gasped at what her eyes showed her.

Before her was no longer a garden, but an immense field of daisies. The statues, benches, and fountains were no longer visible beneath a dusting of cheerful white flowers. She stepped forward, the sweet scent of the flowers surrounding her. In the midst of the beautiful petals, she saw a piece of parchment with her name written gracefully on the front.

_Cinderella, _it said, _I am away on business as usual, and I know your day will be just as grueling, if not more, than mine. Keep me in mind, as I will you, always. Take three steps to your right, then ten steps forward._

There was no name on the paper, but of course, she knew who had prepared it all. She did as the letter instructed. Three steps to the right, ten steps forward…

She looked up, not knowing what to expect. Cinderella saw nothing before her, but slowly her eyes were drawn to the grass. The daisies thinned out and stopped at her feet. Before her was an odd scattering of the same flowers, but as she looked at them closely, she saw they were arranged to spell out two words:

_Until tomorrow._

Wedding day.

- - -

**Right.**

**Just thought I'd give you one more chapter before I get ready to travel again.**

**Happy late Christmas!**

**Happy New Year!**

**Please don't hesitate to leave me a present (a.k.a. REVIEW).**

**Thanks for your support, and I promise I won't disappoint you with the next chapter. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Greetings! **

**Did you miss me?**

**-crickets-  
**

**Yes, I think so...maybe...a little bit?**

**In any case, this chapter is a bit cheesy, so prepare yourself.**

**Nonetheless, you must enjoy yourself no matter the cheesy-ness, mmkay?**

**You can expect many more updates. SCHOOL IS OVER! I am liberated.**

**Dream Come True**

_Chapter 14_

Sunshine poured in through the gap between two enormous draperies. Cinderella sighed, her eyes adjusting quickly to the brightness of a new morning. Her mind was numb to the world except for that one ray of gold that stretched across her blankets. She reached out, reveling in the warmth that pervaded the morning chill, and with that touch of sun, all weariness seemed to fade. The ability to think flooded her brain.

Today she would be wed to Prince Alaric Mondemar. _Her_ prince.

…

"So much to do, so little time, my dear!" Bridgett fussed with the laces on Cinderella's corset, her fingers trembling slightly with agitation. "Oh, confound it! If you don't mind me saying, Miss, you have no need of this torture device. You're slim enough as it is…"

Cinderella chuckled and breathed a sigh of relief as Bridgett loosened the strings with deft fingers and handed her a silk robe.

Chimes in the bell tower echoed monstrously through the above corridors.

"Nine o' clock! My word, how time flies." Bridgett excused herself, her voice resounding through the hallways as she instructed servants left and right.

Cinderella stood, making her way to the mirror. Her bright blue eyes held too many emotions to grasp, and they seemed to absorb a myriad more as she scanned her figure. She had only changed minutely from the day she fitted for her wedding dress. Her hair had resumed its original color, but the strands were smooth as silk. Blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and she found herself smiling.

Her observations were interrupted with Bridgett's entrance and the enticing smell of fresh biscuits.

"Breakfast!" Bridgett set the tray on the end table before excusing herself. "I will give you until ten to eat, but I hate to rush you. The wedding is set for twelve."

Cinderella took a biscuit and a glass of milk to the cushioned window seat in the corner.

A knock on her door nearly caused her to drop the milk glass.

"Yes?"

The door creaked open and a small figure stepped through the frame carrying a familiar tattered gray box.

"'Scuse me, Miss."

The young girl curtseyed and approached with hurried steps.

Cinderella accepted the gray box with a smile, excusing the girl to go about her duties, for she was sure Bridgett would have her executing lists and lists of work. The girl seemed loath to move from her spot on the carpet at first. She lifted her eyes once to glance into Cinderella's face before she bowed quickly, taking hasty steps out the door.

"Hmm." Cinderella let her thoughts contemplate the girl as she munched slowly on the warm, crumbling biscuit.

She set the empty milk glass aside and fingered the gray box that lay limply in her lap. Hesitantly, she undid the clasp, the box popping open with a small creak from the stretched wooden frame. The lid was lifted with slightly trembling fingers. Her breath was taken away when her eyes took in the contents of the box. Sunlight gleamed and glistened almost painfully bright against silver jewelry. Cinderella felt she had come upon a treasure chest, the contents too priceless for human fingers to touch.

The door to her room burst open, and she closed the box in her hands with a _snap_.

"You're not dressed yet! Oh, mercies…" Bridgett ran forward, tossing the empty dishes onto a tray and passing them on to some unsuspecting soul in the corridor.

"Come," she said, walking forward to grasp Cinderella's hand, "It's time."

Bridgett guided Cinderella through a door to the left of her dresser. Her eyes were met with yet another dazzling sight as she shielded them against a sparkling white dress in the morning light. Her wedding dress was pressed and altered, hanging by the window with the veil draped above it. The shoes sticking out beneath the skirt gave one the impression that it clothed an invisible person.

"Oh…" Cinderella tightened her grasp on Bridgett's hand. "I'm not ready. Oh, Bridgett, I'm not fit to be married!"

Tears fell slowly down her cheeks as Bridgett pulled her into an embrace.

"There, there…just wedding day jitters, is all." She caressed Cinderella's hair for a moment and offered her a handkerchief from her apron. "Dry those tears, dear."

Cinderella pressed her face into Bridgett's shoulder, taking in her sweet smell. In such a short time, she had filled the hole left in Cinderella's life by her stepmother.

She jumped as the chimes of the clock echoed down the tower, the mirrors vibrating on the wall with each swinging of the enormous pendulum.

"Ten o' clock. We have exactly one hour to make you twice as beautiful!"

Cinderella forced a laugh and submitted to Bridgett's fussing for what seemed like an eternity.

After layers and layers of petticoats, Cinderella was ready for the finale: the sparkling dress. As she lifted her arms in the air and felt the cool breeze of the silk fabric passing over her shoulders, a sense of unease crept across her skin.

Bridgett pinned the veil, slipped the shoes on, and placed the jewelry where it belonged. The silver felt refreshingly cool against her neck, but it did not lessen her uncertainty: of what, she did not know.

"I think my job here is done." Bridgett nodded at Cinderella's reflection, immensely pleased with her work. "Now," she turned to Cinderella, "I've finished early on purpose."

She left Cinderella to gaze at herself in the glass for a moment while she rummaged through a drawer on the other side of the immense closet. Bridgett cried out triumphantly when she pulled a paper-wrapped package from underneath a pile of knitted scarves. She placed the gift in Cinderella's outstretched hands and waited expectantly while she fumbled with the strings. A white silk gown and slip were folded amidst the wrinkled brown paper in her hands.

"What every bride needs." Bridgett winked and took the gift from Cinderella, placing it inside the travel trunk by the door.

"Bridgett!" A deep voice called from the other room.

She took Cinderella's hand and hurriedly led her from the closet. The duke stood in the doorway, his fingers clutched around the base of the bouquet. His eyes sparkled as he lifted his monocle to study the glistening figure before him.

"I say! Oh, I say!" He grinned jovially at Cinderella, his eyes following the trail of silk behind her.

"Good evening, Duke." Bridgett curtseyed slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the carpet.

"And what a marvelous job you have done, m'lady." The duke stepped forward and bowed to the maid, whose round cheeks brightened slowly with a mottled blush as she lifted her eyes to his face.

She simply smiled and turned to Cinderella in order to commence her fussing.

"Oh, this seam is out of line! Here, take the bouquet...but don't squeeze the life out of it! Easy does it...Head up, dear. Now, look at you! These flowers enhance her eyes, don't you think, Duke?"

Cinderella took a deep breath and smiled as sweetly as possible.

BONG!

"Oh, goodness me!" Bridgett nearly fell to the floor with surprise. She stepped forward, taking Cinderella's hand in her own. "Come along, Miss. It's time."

BONG!

"Please, Duke, will you escort this fine woman downstairs?" The maid curtseyed once more to the man beside her.

He opened his mouth to reply, but Cinderella cut him off.

"I insist that you escort my maid, kind sir."

BONG!

"Beg pardon?" The duke was surprised, but not appalled. "It-it's not customary!"

"Oh, dash custom! The clock is ticking."

BONG!

Cinderella stepped between her servant and the Duke, but the gaze shared between the two was not broken by her passage. She smiled to herself and willed her feet to carry her down the stairs.

BONG!

Down the corridor, down two flights of steps...

BONG!

...and all the while, she was egged on by the lively conversations and laughter behind her. The Duke was all politeness, and Bridgett blushed with every compliment. Both middle aged, but each one seemed to lose ten years in each other's company.

BONG!

She thought of Alaric and nothing else.

BONG!

Through two sets of immense wooden doors and past the line of invisible knights in armor...

BONG!

Was she ready to be a married woman? What life could this castle hold for her, peasant by blood?

BONG!

But it was too late to think back or question her motives: the final red-carpeted staircase stretched out before her.

BONG!

Images of herself flitting past the castle guards and the Duke flashed across her mind as she stepped lightly upon the cushioned stairs. Cinderella was careful to keep her toes tightened—she would not lose a shoe this time around.

BONG!

She lifted her eyes, squinting in the bright light from the opened doors, and felt herself smiling genuinely as she approached the landing.

"My, my!" The rotund king extended his elbow, and she took it gratefully.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"If ever there was a chance I would refuse to give my consent to this marriage--" he studied her face for a moment, his eyes softening, "--well, that just wouldn't happen."

She stepped forward as the music began. The red curtains were parted, and the extravagance around her was breathtaking.

"Daisies..." Cinderella whispered.

The wind scattered the flowers on the aisle before her. They were pushed to either side, making a clear pathway to her goal. Alaric stood patiently and beautifully beneath the glimmering iron trellis and beside the tall, thin priest. If she had any intention of turning back—it was too late now.

Her heels pressed into the rolled out crimson carpet as the stringed instruments' music swelled. After what seemed like an eternity, she was finally beside her prince. She turned and finally noticed the crowd of people who had gathered, each one sighing pleasantly and remarking on the beauty of her dress. Alaric reached out and turned her face towards him, taking both her hands in his own.

He silently mouthed the word "beautiful", and the ceremony began.

The words didn't matter. No words from the priest's lips could express such elation she felt standing beneath Alaric's gaze. She was grinning beneath the sheer cloth of her veil, and tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke the words "I do" and felt the coolness of metal against her ring finger.

It was a fateful moment—Alaric released her hands and lifted the veil. All of the kisses they'd shared could not compare to the explosion of emotion and the sheer significance of it that she felt. This kiss signified a promise...and it was magnificent.

The sound of applause brought them both back into the world.

"Throw the bouquet!" Alaric laughed contagiously.

Cinderella turned her back to the crowd of anxious women and tossed the flowers far above her head. She turned as applause and cries of surprise went throughout the crowd. Bridgett was hugging the small servant girl Cinderella had seen earlier that morning. The girl smiled widely and held out the flowers to Bridgett, motioning silently to the Duke beside her.

"No, no, my dear! Those were meant to be yours." Bridgett laughed and looked apologetically at the Duke, who merely shrugged and readjusted his monocle.

"The carriage awaits, Your Highness." Cinderella was startled as she turned and found the footman bowing before her.

She curtseyed, lost for words and wholly unprepared to be referred to as royalty. She took Alaric's hand, and he grinned mischievously as he began to run towards the carriage, pulling her along. The train of her dress flew wildly behind her as she attempted to gather her skirts to keep from tripping. They reached the carriage gasping for air, but a servant called to them before they opened the ornate door.

"Your Highness! Your shoe!"

The servant approached, holding her slipper far above his head. She looked at Alaric and they burst into laughter.

"You have a nasty habit, my dear." Alaric opened the carriage door, and they climbed in. "It's going to be a long trip..."

"I don't mind." Cinderella smiled and leaned forward to kiss him once more before the horses were whipped into motion.

- - -

**Hurrah! The end of another chapter.**

**According to a certain anonymous reviewer, my story lacks direction after the 7th chapter. I will remedy this (or attempt to). I do admit, I got a little carried away making up my own storyline...but I was having fun!**

**In any case, I will work harder on the following chapters (because it does not end here, my friends!!).**

**I expect some criticizing reviews. If I do not recieve such reviews, well...you may not have any more chapters to look forward to.**

**(Is that a threat?)**

**(Why, yes indeed.)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Readers! I have not abandoned you. **

**No, indeed, I have not!**

**This was a hard chapter to write. And for all of you squeamish folks, I have tried to keep this as pristinely clean and without suggestion as possible. Feel free to correct me if I have failed miserably. **

**You are all so faithful. **

**Claimer****: I own this plot. Oh, yes indeed, I DO! I also own Alaric. He is all mine. No more Prince Charming, Disney! I have defeated thee. BOW DOWN, I say!!**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Cinderella, however. **

**Dream Come True**

- - -

_Chapter 15_

- - -

The carriage slowed to a stop, and Cinderella leaned forward, but the world outside was dark.

"Where are we?"

"Patience, my pet."

She laughed giddily at Alaric and took the footman's hand, gathering the silky skirts of her wedding dress as she stepped down the ornate steps.

"Welcome to the Bog's Frog Inn!" Alaric motioned towards the dimly lit doorstep of a small cottage.

"Shouldn't it be Frog's Bog?" She looked questioningly at him, but he was occupied with the servants.

Stone steps led up to a small uncovered landing. The wooden sign above the dim entrance depicted a crowned frog atop a floating lily pad. A cool breeze swung the sign back and forth as far as the aged and rusted hinges would allow. Clouds hid the moon beneath their misty blanket, and the flickering lamp, its flame all but burnt out, did not give Cinderella a proper view of the building itself. She smiled at the faded frog and turned to her husband.

"Are we going to make a grand entrance?"

"You have nothing to worry about." He took her hand in his own, guiding her towards the shadowed entrance.

The door burst open as soon as their feet touched the first stone steps. A familiar figure made his way through the entrance and lifted a lantern, the light giving him distinguishable features. His face was wrinkled, but the hazel eyes still held a spark of youth. Wispy white hair escaped on all sides from his night cap as the breeze threatened to take it from him.

"Clarence!" Cinderella released Abram's hand as she bolted forward to pull the aged cook into an embrace.

"I would hardly recognize you, my dear!" The man's voice was muffled in her immense veil. He pulled away and gazed into her face, "You are a vision."

"I should have invited you to dine with us at the castle some time ago, but what are you doing here at this quaint, old inn? I thought you worked for Harry."

Clarence glanced at Alaric briefly before answering with a toothy grin, "You must be tired from the journey! Please, do come inside. I had my wife fix the best rooms available."

Candles glowed on every wooden table in the small inn's lobby, making the room seem even smaller with the small radius of light that never seemed to touch the walls. A buffet counter against one wall served as both a bar and a welcome desk.

"The servants have been prepared rooms as well," Clarence motioned to three doors leading from the main room marked with the numbers 3, 4, and 5. He turned to Cinderella, avoiding Alaric's gaze as he spoke, "And your room is up these stairs. Everything should be ready. I'll have the servants bring in the luggage while you enjoy the light supper I've prepared for you."

Cinderella grinned at the elderly cook as she lifted her skirts to follow Alaric up the dim and rickety staircase. Their eyes quickly adjusted to the well-lit bedroom chamber that filled the entire second floor of the inn.

"Did Clarence and his wife give up their room for us?" Cinderella noticed various photographs and hand-sewn quilts lying about as well as a woman's dress skirt peeking from the door of a dresser.

"It is the least we could do." A voice from the wash room surprised them both. A stout woman with long, white, braided hair stepped through the door, her hands on her hips as she studied the couple standing at the front of the room. "You two are a pretty sight, indeed! And I won't have you deny our hospitality, young lady. Clarence and I wanted to treat you to the best..." she paused, taking a step forward to straighten a wrinkle in the bed covers, "and it's the least we could do!"

"Thank you--"

"No time to waste!" Clarence's wife interrupted Cinderella. She turned and motioned energetically towards a small table in the middle of the room. "Your food will get cold."

Alaric and Cinderella both stepped forward to take a seat, but the woman cried out when she saw Cinderella attempting to gather her skirts in order to fit into the chair.

"Come with me, child." The woman took Cinderella's hand and led her to the washroom. "I have this for you to wear in the meantime. I wouldn't want you wrinkling that gown!"

After quite an ordeal, she was finally released from her cumbersome wedding dress and put into an oversized cotton dress.

"You are very petite!"

Cinderella looked at herself in the mirror, startled to see the stark contrast between her beautifully fashioned hair and the dark blue cotton dress that engulfed her slim figure. She pulled the pins from her stiff hair while Clarence's wife fussed about for some sort of ribbon to tie around the dress. A black ribbon was produced that managed to pull the fabric in around her waist, and her long hair hid the fact that the sleeves refused to stay put on her bony shoulders.

"You still look like a princess, my dear."

"What is your name?" Cinderella turned to the woman, who smiled pleasantly behind her wrinkles and gently ran a comb through Cinderella's hair.

"You may call me Libbie." She paused and nodded at the figure before her, satisfied with her work. "Your husband awaits."

The door shut quietly behind Libbie, and Cinderella was left to stare into the reflection of her eyes in the glass. She noticed, with a start, that she still wore her mother's necklace and earrings. She had no memory of her mother, but she remembered nights, after sneaking out of bed, where she'd find her father sitting in the library staring intently at the glistening jewelry in a silk-covered box. His eyes held so many emotions; it hurt to watch for fear of taking them all in at once. It had always been her dream to wear that jewelry...for both her father and mother.

But now the sparkling silver only held heartache.

Her silent reverie was broken by the smell of chicken and fresh greens. She quickly unclasped the necklace and unpinned the earrings, placing them gently against the wooden counter. With a deep breath, she stepped eagerly through the door.

Alaric and Cinderella broke into simultaneous laughter at the sight of each other.

He had borrowed a pale yellow button-down shirt and brown pants from Clarence, both of which were a few sizes too small. The pants legs fell to the middle of his calves, and the shirt was stretched rather tightly across his broad shoulders.

"You know I'm only laughing at myself, Cinderella. You still look as beautiful as ever." Alaric beamed and motioned for her to sit.

She joined him at the table, her nose tingling with mouth-watering scents from Clarence's cooking.

They sat silently at first, waiting patiently while the servants brought their trunks through the slightly crooked door. After what seemed like an eternity of small talk, Cinderella took a deep breath and willed herself to cease acting as nervous as she felt when they first met.

"Abram..." She blurted the name out, and Alaric looked up from his food, letting his fork clatter onto the plate.

"I haven't heard that in a while." He smiled pleasantly and leaned forward to listen intently.

"What does Clarence have to hide from me? I know that we aren't the closest of friends, but I did gain a fondness for him...and it makes no sense for him to act so strangely."

Alaric sighed and ran his hands through his hair before speaking. Cinderella was distracted for a moment, remembering his face on that first day, the way his bangs had fallen so gently across his forehead. She felt an urge to lean forward and release his hair from the stiff, combed-back state it was in, but Alaric spoke, bringing her back to the present.

"Clarence was the royal cook."

Cinderella swallowed a bite of chicken without tasting it. "I don't understand."

"Through certain outer circumstances, my father discharged Clarence from work at the castle. I had a high opinion of Clarence, even though I was refused the opportunity to become truly acquainted with his character." He paused and took a sip of the red wine. "I made sure he had a steady job at Harry's and a home to live in.

"When I saw you at the market one day, I knew your stepmother had something planned for the evening, so I stole myself away and..." he sighed, running his had through his hair again, "paid Harry to make sure Clarence was hired to serve you. I gave Harry a note to pass on to Clarence stating that the moment he left your home, he was to report to me immediately."

She chewed the greens silently, her eyes fixed on the stem of her wine glass. The cook had acted as a spy, essentially.

He continued after a pause. "You have to understand, Cinderella, that I was planning on telling you the whole truth that evening, and I needed someone there I knew would make sure things were safe."

Cinderella continued to eat wordlessly.

"Clarence agreed, and sent a note to the house through the gate keeper as soon as he left your home and so I took Dupree and went to your residence in high spirits." He stopped, his jaw clenched as he continued, "But things changed when I saw that damned fool put his hands on you."

She looked up. His fist grasped the wine glass fiercely as he took another sip, his eyes glinting with emotions that arose from the sour memory. Her hand found its way across the crowded table and touched his fingers. She felt the tension ease slightly with her contact as he turned his face towards her.

"Clarence still blames me for my father's actions and quit his job at Harry's soon after finding out I had provided it for him. He found a job here...and the only reason he let me through the door is because I was holding your hand." He pressed her fingers slightly, "He's so fond of you."

She stood, still grasping his hand. "Maybe my fondness for you will remedy the situation."

He pulled her closer, and she reached up to pull his bangs across his forehead.

"That's much better."

Alaric stood suddenly, his face growing serious. "I love you."

She held in her laughter as she curtseyed slowly, her face sullen. "Your majesty..."

"I do believe you're teasing me!" He stepped forward, studying the distance and any obstacles between them intently before blowing out the candle.

- - -

Cinderella awoke to the smells of fresh tea and scones. She hadn't heard anyone enter, but the growling of her stomach was an instant distraction. Careful not to make a sound, she stood and crept towards her travel trunk, pulling out the nightgown and robe Bridgett had given as a gift.

Her mind drifted back in time to her mornings at home when the birds were her only company. She hardly ever had time to eat breakfast, but in the past few weeks, she had enjoyed the most elaborate selection of food in the mornings. Balancing the remainder of her scone and a saucer of tea in one hand, she moved towards the window and pushed the curtain aside. She felt herself smile with the pleasantness of the world outside the window.

Mist rose slowly and gracefully above a black pool of water. Lily pads floated lazily side to side in the stillness, moving only when stirred by a webbed foot. A frog splashed suddenly from the depths of the water and landed with perfect accuracy on a large lily pad. His sides heaved, rubbery skin tightly stretched across every joint. His green coloring was disturbed by numerous brown splotches. He was an elderly frog. Cinderella strained her eyes in the dim morning light, blinking furiously at the frog who was wearing a tiny golden crown atop his head.

"Impossible..." she whispered inaudibly as she stepped closer to the window, nearly spilling her tea.

He bulged out his neck and let out a piercing croak before splashing into the murky waters once more.

Cinderella's ears burned suddenly, and she turned to see Alaric's eyes upon her.

"Good morning." She blushed, wondering how long he'd been watching her.

"How's the view?" He motioned towards the window and sat up slowly, revealing his bare broad shoulders.

Cinderella turned her gaze to the pond, smirking to herself. "Refined."

"What's that?" Alaric yawned and rubbed a hand through his chaotic hair.

"It's fine, I said." She squinted as the first rays of sunlight peeked above distant hills. "Oh, come quick, or you'll miss the sunrise!"

Alaric groaned and fell back into the pillows. "Do you always start your mornings this early?"

She smiled, finishing her scone in one bite. "_Always_."

- - -

"There's enough for lunch and dinner in here." Clarence placed the covered basket in Alaric's hands and called to his wife at the bar. "Libbie, it shouldn't rain today, should it?"

She finished pouring ale into a tall mug before she glanced out the window, sniffing softly at the breeze. "Not today."

"An expert at weather-guessing, that one..." Clarence chuckled softly and turned to Alaric. "If it should rain, you bring her straight back, you hear?"

Alaric simply nodded and put his arm around Cinderella's shoulders. "We'll be back before dark."

"On your way, now!" The cook motioned towards the door, waving one wrinkled hand in farewell as they turned to leave.

"Who thought of the picnic?" Cinderella looped her arm through Alaric's as they strolled through the tall grass beside the pond.

"I did, of course." He puffed out his chest proudly.

Cinderella laughed, "And have you planned this entire trip down to the last detail?"

"That would be correct. And you won't be informed of any of it beforehand." He grinned mischievously.

She glanced up at him, taking in the plain appearance of his clothes; a long gray tunic tied together with a simple piece of twine, black cotton pants and dusty boots. Her own unadorned dress felt natural and light against her body. It was ingenious, she thought, to be in disguise.

"There's no need to draw attention to ourselves," Alaric had explained before their outing.

Cinderella didn't need further convincing as to accepting the idea. She had secretly dreaded wearing one of her many elaborate gowns if they went into town. Time seemed to move backwards as they reminisced on past events, but they intentionally avoided the subject of her stepmother.

"Let's eat here." She ran forward and spread her arms wide to the view before them.

Part of the hill jutted out, forming a small, flat plateau. The fields far below stretched out endlessly, their path broken by distant mountains hidden behind low-riding clouds. The sky above them was a clear blue. A giant weeping willow swayed its green branches in the wind, the rustling leaves adding to the symphony around them.

"It's perfect." Alaric pulled a quilt from the basket and set it on the ground.

The basket was opened, revealing a plate of steaming roast beef, a covered saucer full of rich gravy, a fresh loaf of bread, a platter of sharp cheddar cheese, egg salad sandwiches, ripe peaches, and two slices of apple pie.

"What shall we conquer first?" Alaric looked at the scattering of food on the blanket, scratching his head absently.

"To the sandwiches!" Cinderella put her fist in the air triumphantly.

"Ah, Gwyn," Alaric chuckled and leaned closer to her. "Did you ever think we'd make it this far?"

She lifted a sandwich from the plate and put it to his lips before he could kiss her.

"You do enjoy teasing me, don't you?" He tossed the sandwich aside and cupped her face in his hands.

"Never in my wildest dreams."

"What's that?"

"In answer to your question...never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be sitting here by your side."

He smiled pleasantly, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead.

- - -

Thunder rolled above their heads. The sky darkened as the wind grew suddenly chill.

"That's our cue." Alaric finished his last bite of pie and began piling empty plates into the basket.

Cinderella remained stationary beside the blanket, her eyes focused on the distance.

"I intend to follow through on Clarence's instructions." He folded the blanket and stepped closer to her, his brow furrowed. "Cinderella—"

"Shh, just wait." She held up a hand and motioned towards a point in the sky far above the fields below.

Suddenly, the skies opened in the distance, the rain making its way slowly towards them in one solid sheet of hissing droplets. Cinderella grinned, looking up towards the rumbling sky and allowing the rain to drench her face. She breathed deeply and turned towards the astonished prince beside her.

"Sometimes in order to see something beautiful, you must have patience." Her smile faded slightly as she stepped towards him.

"I'm an impatient man, so if you were referring to yourself, my dear...it's simply not true."

"That's not what I—"

"I've always thought you were beautiful."

"Certainly not at the well that first day..."

"_Especially _at the well."

The rain poured from the sky in torrents, but neither paid much attention.

- - -

**The plot thickens!**

**Well, not really...haha. This chapter was complete fluff.**

**So?**

**Erm...yeah. **

**I know, I know...you waited two whole months for this update. I hope it wasn't too disappointing. I need to give this story some more thought before I write another update. Never you fear, though. **

**I desire reviews. Please give some feedback on this chapter...and maybe some pointers if you like. **

**I am not content.**


	16. Chapter 16

**I apologize if my story has been rather scattered up to this point, but I have done what every English teacher tries to prevent at any cost—and have failed to write a general outline for the plot of this story. **

**English teachers: **-gasp- 50 points off of your next paper!!

**Me: **NUUUUUUU!!! Why? WHY??

**English teachers: **Because we enjoy making your life miserable.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Disney (and said characters).**

**Claimer: However, I do own MY characters (and certain said characters' personalities...and this plot. Tis purely mine!)**

**Enough stalling!! You have waited many a month for this update. **

**I used my sick day to finish this chapter, so please try to enjoy. Snot does slow down the thought processes quite a bit...**

**Dream Come True**

- - -

_Chapter 16_

- - -

Hand in hand, they sprinted towards the little inn, their bare feet slipping dangerously in the wet grass. They stopped to catch their breath beneath a giant dripping oak a few yards from the entrance, full stomachs making it difficult to run any faster.

"You're up for a scolding from Clarence...we're positively soaked!" Cinderella gasped for air, shivering slightly in the blue dress that clung to her dripping icy skin.

Alaric merely chuckled, his breath fogging in the air around his head.

Her eyes wandered toward the quaking surface of the pond as she leaned down to set the basket on the ground. Lily pads were overturned and beaten viciously by the rain. Cattails bowed gracefully towards the water's rocky surface, their brown tips swollen with moisture. A flash of gold glittered beneath the shade of a lily pad. She stepped forward, straining her eyes to see what she hoped would prove her sanity.

"What's wrong?" Alaric followed her gaze.

"Look there!" But as she lifted her finger, the creature disappeared in the quieter depths of the murky pond.

"Where? I don't see..."

"Oh, never mind..." Cinderella grabbed the basket, glancing periodically at the water's surface before leading them both, dripping and shivering, inside.

"Are you a madman?" Clarence's raised voice took them both by surprise as they passed over the threshold.

A quilt was thrown about their shoulders. The basket was yanked from her grasp and tossed onto the floor. Two hands led them towards the fire and pushed them forcefully into the lumpy cushions of the settee. Clarence stood in front of them, his wispy hair silhouetted by the flickering firelight. His face was mostly hidden by shadow, but it was apparent he was ready to speak his mind…and not peacefully.

After a few tense minutes he sighed, resigning his irritation in one shrug of his shoulders.

Libbie ignored her irate husband and began fussing over the shivering couple.

"Is this blanket heavy enough? Have some chamomile tea; it will keep you from catching cold. Do you think the fire needs another log? It is a bit chill in here, don't you think?"

A gust of wind from the open door blew Libbie's skirt against her thighs, and she froze as if hit with a pail of water. She lifted her gaze and squinted in the breeze.

"Shut the door, woman!" Clarence's shout failed to bring her back from a deep reverie.

Cinderella studied Libbie's face as hope filled her chest; the woman's gray-blue eyes were focused intently on the edge of the pond. Did she see...?

Alaric stood up beside her and moved towards the door, as Clarence's wife remained stationary.

"What is with you? Can't you do something when I ask? These two are already soaked—that blast of air couldn't have been good for them."

"I'm sorry, dear." Libbie's apology was sincere, yet her eyes told a different story.

She fidgeted with the quilt over Cinderella's legs and moved towards the kitchen, her brow puckered with emotion. Clarence's gaze lifted from his wife as the door closed behind her. He shook his head and laughed away his obvious concern.

"I never understand that woman. I think what upset her was her false weather predictions..." He winked playfully at Cinderella.

Libbie peeked her head around the kitchen door suddenly, returning to her normal self, "Clarence, the letter. Don't forget about the letter!" She pointed agitatedly at the bar counter and quickly returned to attend to a screaming teapot.

"Ah!" He moved towards the counter and retrieved a white envelope from amid upturned beer glasses. He turned and motioned towards Alaric with the letter. "May have gotten a few drops of ale on it, but it's readable."

Alaric moved from the fire and took it from Clarence's hands, breaking the wax seal and tossing it towards the fire, missing by mere inches. His eyes scanned the page frantically, but his face remained unreadable.

"If you will excuse me for a moment..." He nodded to Clarence and moved swiftly towards the stairs without another glance in Cinderella's direction.

She stood and moved to follow, but hesitated when she heard him reach the landing. The wax seal was melting into the hard wood, but the imprint was unquestionably a royal seal. Wrapping the quilt about her trembling shoulders, she tiptoed up the steps, giving Clarence one reassuring wave before retreating upstairs.

Alaric was moving about the room fretfully. One hand still grasped the letter while he tossed a pair of shoes into the middle of the floor and searched fruitlessly for socks in his over-stuffed trunk.

She stepped forward into the path of his mindless pacing. He stopped suddenly, looking down into her eyes with a feverish gaze. His pale green eyes searched her face for something she couldn't name.

"Alaric." She placed her hand on the letter, but he pulled away and moved to sit on the bed and lace his shoes. "You'll need socks."

Her words fell on deaf ears. Cinderella placed her hands on his shoulders, attempting to catch his gaze, but he kept his face hidden.

He stood suddenly and kissed her on the forehead. "Stay here. I'll be back by morning."

His voice throbbed with emotion, but he was out the door before she could call him back.

The letter sat on the bed. Her hands moved of their own will and grasped the letter between trembling fingers. Locks of her bushy hair were falling in her face. She tossed the letter down and tied her hair into a furiously tight bun before reading the letter.

_To Prince Alaric Mondemar:_

_A matter of utmost importance requires your return to the castle. His Highness the King has had a slight accident. Please arrive at the earliest convenience._

_Signed,_

_The Duke_

Cinderella took a deep breath, feeling the tension rising in her stomach as it twisted itself into knots with worry. She would not sleep well; the thought of it made her restless. She stood and made her way towards the window. The rain had slowed to a soft misting; it softened the edges of the objects down below so that colors met and began seamlessly. A moving figure caught her eye.

"Libbie..." Cinderella whispered to herself, a thousand questions forming in her mind as she watched the stout woman make her way past the pond into a line of trees.

She was down the steps in seconds, but she paused at the last to make sure Clarence hadn't heard her descent. He whistled tunelessly from the kitchen; she breathed a sigh of relief and silently edged out the back door. The shock of wet grass on her feet made her jump, but she pulled the quilt about her shoulders, remembering her clothes were still damp from the afternoon escapade. Thoughts of catching cold were in the furthest reaches of her mind at the moment, however, as she soundlessly followed Libbie's footsteps into the small grove of trees.

It was to her advantage that she had forgotten shoes. Libbie's path was evident by deep prints in the soggy leaves, and up ahead she could hear the snapping of twigs and a soft humming. Cinderella stepped gingerly through the underbrush, gathering the quilt in her arms so it wouldn't catch on the scattering of thorn bushes she passed.

She was forced to duck suddenly behind the enormous trunk of an oak tree when she saw Libbie's figure kneeling in the leaves less than ten feet away. Sinking slowly into the crinkling leaves, she peered around the tree.

"Happy Birthday, Jeremiah."

Cinderella pushed herself further from the tree as Libbie placed a small wildflower beneath a gravestone that read _Jeremiah Everard Layton_. The dates were too small to read. Suddenly, she was overcome with the urge to sneeze. She quickly moved behind the tree and covered her mouth with the quilt, but it was too late.

"Ah_-CHOO!_" Silence followed the noise and she held her breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"Who's there?" A twig snapped somewhere close by—close enough to give away her position to Clarence's wife.

"It's me." Cinderella's heart stopped—she had not spoken. It was a man's voice, but not one that she recognized.

"I know that voice...and I know that it is impossible." Libbie's voice shook.

Cinderella peeked around the tree with extreme caution, but all she could see was Libbie's small form crouched on the forest floor.

"You are right to think it impossible, yet here I am." The voice faded strangely into the croak of a frog.

"J...Jeremiah?" Libbie stood and looked from side to side; Cinderella ducked behind the tree, but listened intently.

"I am here, Elizabeth, below you." A frog croaked again. Cinderella was puzzled at the name he spoke.

"It can't be! Your body lays here...Jeremiah, what has happened?"

Cinderella could not contain her curiosity as she peered towards the gravestone. Libbie was cupping a crowned frog in her hands. She was forced to cover her mouth with the quilt to cover her cry of surprise. So she had not imagined him after all! A frog prince...

"There is no body in that coffin. That damned Clarence--"

"Jeremy! Please..."

"You do not know what he has done. He ruined us."

"But you died in the war! He gave me the letters you wrote...your birthday..." Tears escaped her eyes and fell onto the frog's webbed feet.

"I did not die, Elizabeth. You see me here, in this form, but I am alive! I have lived in this pond since the day Clarence bought the inn."

"How did you become like this?" She lifted him towards a patch of light, but clouds still hid the sun—everything looked gray and dreary.

"It was all a plot. A witch..."

"Witchcraft?"

Cinderella's heart stopped. She had encountered magic, but witchcraft involved much darker and crueler magic.

"Of the foulest kind. I do not wish to blacken your husband's name, but that man has many secrets." Jeremiah turned one bright green eye towards her face and blinked. He lacked the ability to frown, yet his lips seemed to dip slightly.

"But why would he do such a thing? I cannot believe that he would have a motive..."

"Would you have married me?"

Libbie's eyes widened. "Well, I--"

"If I had asked, what would you have said?"

"Yes. Most ardently yes..." Her eyes searched his small form

"There is your motive."

Libbie's shoulders suddenly shook with sobs. She took a deep breath and placed the frog on one bony knee, wiping the tears from her withered face with both hands. "Tell me everything."

"But--"

"I want to know!" Her firmness startled the frog, but he seemed to compose himself and straightened the tiny crown with his back foot.

"Clarence came to see me one night after the summer gala...you remember that dance?"

"I still dream about it." She smiled through her tears and urged him to continue.

"I do not remember much that happened next, but something hit me hard and I awoke in a small horse-drawn cart. There were sounds of the carnival (the one that was in town that month), and suddenly I was being carried, mostly dragged, roughly on the ground into a dark tent. Everything else is a blur, but I remember the startling sensation of water as Clarence dropped me into the pond. And then the rest of his plan went into action, I suppose...lying about my disappearance and my draft into the war, creating the letters I sent to you, and then finally faking my death—even going as far as pretending to bury me in that grave. I cannot begin to describe the pain I felt when I saw your wedding. It was by the pond, was it not?"

She nodded. "He did that to torture you. How—how horrible it all is! Fifty years I have lived with a man who destroyed my chance at true happiness with you. I cannot bear it! There must be a way to fix it—to break the spell."

"There is a way."

She cupped him in her hands once more.

"Why have you not spoken to me until now? Why not at the very beginning?"

"You seemed happy. Your life was pleasant..."

"I dream about you every night, even since the night of the dance. I come to your grave every year to celebrate your birthday and your death...how can my life be full and complete if I ritually think about you? My life has been torture! It had its happy moments, yes, but it has never been complete...Curse you for not speaking up! Curse you for not giving us another chance--"

"Kiss me."

Libbie fell silent. "What...?"

"Kiss me, Elizabeth, and it will break the spell."

Cinderella's heart thumped loudly in her chest as Libbie leaned forward to press her thin lips against the frog's snout.

A flash of light and a sudden blast of cool air nearly knocked Cinderella on her back, but she braced herself against the tree. She blinked, trying to regain her sight from the whitewashed world around her. Slowly, things began to come into focus. Pieces of two figures appeared, the outer edges of each coming into view slowly. The defining lines spread towards their lips that were locked in a kiss. A young man crouched in front of a woman whose hands reached out to cup his face. An invisible breeze tossed the young man's fair hair and the woman's long dark braids. It was a moment before the man leaned back, a smile spreading across his face as he relaxed his posture to sit beside the girl.

As the whiteness slowly faded, so did the youth of the couple. Years were subtracted from each until Cinderella finally recognized the woman as Libbie. Jeremiah's yellow hair was now white, his toned arms frail with age. His eyes were a bright blue and they seemed to consume his thin and wrinkled face. Both were quite aged, but neither one lost the sparkle that gleamed in their eyes when they kissed.

"You should ask your friend to join us." Jeremy kept his eyes trained on Libbie's face.

Cinderella's heart jumped.

"Friend...?" Libbie looked over before Cinderella had time to hide behind the tree. It would have been useless, though, since he knew she was already there.

She stood and accepted the guilt that washed over her for snooping on them.

"Cinderella!" Libbie stood, her face stern.

"I'm sorry. I had no excuse to follow you. I was just concerned—you seemed to have quite a bit on your mind earlier. I wasn't expecting it to be..." She glanced at Jeremiah, lost for words. She'd used all of her excuses in one breath.

Libbie sighed heavily and grasped Jeremy's hand in her small fingers. "I forgive you. If it's not too much trouble..." She glanced at Jeremiah and back at Cinderella.

"I won't breathe a word." She smiled and turned to make her way back to the house.

Her heart still beat furiously; the shock of what happened was almost too much. The transformation from frog to human...it was all so strange. And then Clarence—anger flared in her chest at the thought of him. The means he went to in order to have Libbie for himself were appalling. She wasn't sure whether she could look at the man the same again.

It had grown darker outside with the imminence of yet another storm. She looked toward the front drive anxiously, but Alaric had still not returned. Her thoughts were on something else for so long, she'd nearly forgotten her worry for him. A million possibilities presented themselves in her mind, but she was forced to push them aside as her body shook suddenly with the cold.

Cinderella approached the door and listened intently. At first, she heard nothing but the soft crackling of the fire, but as she pressed her ear to the door, she distinctly heard soft snoring. She cracked the door open, seeing that Clarence had fallen asleep by the fire, and carefully slipped through the door and up the stairs. She quickly changed out of her damp clothes and began straightening the room. It was relaxing to revert to her previous habits; folding clothes, making the bed, lighting candles, straightening books and bric-a-brac on the shelves.

It had grown dark outside; the rain began to pound against the roof. The sound of a door opening below nearly caused her to drop the clay bookend in her hands. Cinderella had been anticipating Libbie's return for hours. She had no idea what to expect.

"Libbie?" Clarence's voice revealed his shock.

"I just went for a walk, my love. Nothing to worry about." Her tone was even.

It was a smooth lie, and Cinderella wondered how Libbie would break the news of her discovery to Clarence, but the room below grew silent. She tiptoed to bed, keeping her ears open for any conversation, but all was still except for the fire and the guttering of low candles. Her eyes were drawn to the candle beside her bed. She watched the flame sputter and die as she drifted slowly to sleep.

- - -

Cinderella sat up suddenly as a roll of thunder shook the frames on the wall. Her heart was thudding in her ears, but she did not know what had caused her to awaken. The room was bathed in blackness until a flash of lightning illuminated the darkness for an instant.

A figure was standing in the door—she could hear the water dripping from rain-soaked clothes.

"Who's there?" She breathed. Another flash of lightning lit up the face of the figure. "Alaric!" She fumbled with a match and lit a fresh candle by the bed.

His eyes were wide and his entire body shook with cold. His clothes were plastered to his body; his shoes were caked thick in mud.

"Did you _walk_ here?" She hesitated, standing slowly as thunder vibrated through the floorboards.

"My horse...Dupree..."

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Lightning flashed against his troubled face; her stomach flipped with worry—she could not handle it if he were harmed in any way.

Alaric shook his head and lowered his face, hiding the tears that fell down his cheeks. She walked towards him, pulling his hands from his face to gaze into his eyes.

"I'm so ashamed...upsetting myself over a horse." He tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob, much to his embarrassment.

Cinderella shushed him gently and led him towards the bed. She took his shoes off, dressed him with dry clothes and pulled the quilt over both of their heads, not bothering to blow out the candle.

"There's no reason to be ashamed, Abram." His eyes lit up with the familiar name, but it did not ease his distress. She ran her hands through his dripping hair and kissed a tear as it fell down his cheek. "Tell me what happened."

"The roads were muddy and my father was in a hurry to get home and attend to some guests...extended royal family members or something foolish. The driver doesn't know what happened, but Dupree was spooked by something suddenly and began rearing—knocked the other horses off balance and sent the carriage toppling against the fence...on top of Dupree. The other three horses survived, but not—oh, that damn horse."

She realized now how much he had cared for the horse despite his complaints.

"Why did you walk?"

"I don't...remember..." His eyes widened with fear.

"It doesn't matter, now. You're here." She wanted so strongly to ease his pain. "And your father?"

"He and the driver were knocked unconscious, so both were exposed to rain and wind for hours before anyone found them and called for help. The driver will recover; he is young. But my father—his leg is broken, and his health has always been unpredictable. He is frail. He was luckier than my horse, but he may not--" His voice broke as he was overcome by sobs.

She moved closer to him and wrapped an arm around his trembling form.

"I'm here. Shh..." She felt useless—she never had anyone to comfort, so it all seemed unnatural.

He breathed out heavily, wiping his eyes with the blanket.

"This was certainly not something I had planned...I'm so sorry."

"Nonsense." She smiled until her face ached with it. "I am with you. That is all that matters."

He nodded, still unconvinced.

"I promise..." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, breathing in the pleasant scent of his breath, something she'd noticed the first time they kissed. "...that I am the happiest woman alive at this moment."

His lips stretched into a soft smirk as he sat up to blow out the candle. As he settled comfortably against the cushions, she remembered the events of that day.

"Alaric?" She stopped, wondering whether it would break Libbie's trust to tell him the full truth.

"What?" His voice vibrated against her ear as he moved closer.

She decided it would have to wait. "I love you." She thought it was a suitable replacement, for now.

"I love you, too, Gwyn."

- - -

**Um...yeah. **

**This was a pretty epic update. I hope you can come to forgive me. I hope the characters aren't too inconsistent...**

**Feedback?**

**Please.**

**Reviews?**

**PRETTY please?! **

**I'm begging you...on hands and knees. **


	17. Chapter 17

**I can't seem to get my characters straight and I'm starting to feel like this story isn't any good. I can't help it. Maybe it is the fact that I couldn't get it together before Christmas break. Maybe it's the fact that even after I promised everyone a chapter, it didn't happen. And maybe it's the fact that, weeks later, I still cannot seem to get it together.**

**Have a hit a wall?**

**I think I have.**

**I think it's something all writers face. **

**I think...**

**-sigh- I'm sorry. I'll stop venting and let you read this chapter, despite how much I would rather not upload it.**

- - -

**Dream Come True**

- - -

_Chapter 17_

A constant roar filled her ears to overflowing. Her head throbbed with the sound. She opened her eyes, finding a field before her hidden by immense crowds of people. The mass throbbed around the path ahead of her, and jeers mixed with laughter—all eyes were trained on her figure. Her feet moved in slow painful steps towards a distant destination. The encroaching crowd stepped aside to make a small path, and finally, as her pace began to slow, she saw it. Sun glinted painfully on the glimmering surface of a gravestone. Clouds invaded the sunlight as her eyes fell upon the open grave.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the crowd's yells hid her outcry. Her feet sloshed in the mud, and suddenly she was sinking. An intense weight on her shoulder was pushing her farther and farther into the muck. Her grip on the unfamiliar object began to slip despite all effort. It crashed to the ground in a quick timeless motion—frogs emerged from the splintered wood of a coffin. Thousands of them, all topped with crowns, spilled into the mud and disappeared among the crowd, but the people cheered and laughed and laughed…

Cinderella sat up with a start. Rain pounded mercilessly against the roof. Nightmares. She shivered in the darkness, reaching beside her to find the bed empty.

"Alaric?" She couldn't stand not having him here even though she'd slept alone countless nights before.

She pulled the pillow against her face, breathing in the scent of his hair as her heart sank deeper into her stomach.

Visions of an upturned carriage flew past her mind's eye, and she clutched his pillow tightly. She missed him desperately.

Restless, she stood, made her way to the window and glanced down at the empty yard below. How long ago did Alaric leave? Was his father safe? She hit her hand against the window, fiercely irritated by the unanswered questions.

Her stomach twisted itself into knots with worry. Thoughts whirled recklessly in her mind, and she couldn't focus on one issue at a time. Thinking about the previous day—the frog prince, Alaric's father, Dupree—created a continuous stream of questions. The effort to push them aside took every ounce of willpower, but it only left room for those questions to be replaced by others. Questions of her past, her stepmother and stepsisters…her mother and father…Bruno and all the animals she'd left behind. It all crashed down upon her in an immense wave. She toppled to the floor unable to do anything but stare blankly past the fogged window into the rain.

- - -

Cinderella found the hours passing seamlessly. Her body ached from crouching on the floor, but the weight on her conscience refused to lift. She was a statue, yet her mind whirred like the gears of a clock.

She was dimly aware of noises downstairs. It was beginning to lighten outside, but she had hardly noticed. Her eyes moved towards the pond, and she thought of Libbie. She realized now that she despised secrets. The helpless indecision and second-guessing of the desire to tell was more than she could handle. She longed to worry about the king and Alaric's horse…but Libbie's secret shed far too much light on the darkness of Clarence's character. She knew which was more severe, yet she felt equally conflicted on both accounts.

Arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her shoulders, but she was not frightened.

"My dear Cinderella…"

She leaned against his chest and closed her eyes, letting the worry dissipate as Alaric's presence filled her thoughts.

"What are you fretting about? I wish to be selfish and say it's the horse…or perhaps my father. I can always get a new horse, and one of better breeding. And my father will get over this rough patch. He's improving already…"

Cinderella nodded, her mind easing only slightly. He sat beside her and pulled her across his lap. He pressed his cheek against her forehead and breathed deeply—her ear throbbed with his heartbeat.

"I can tell something still worries you."

She hated that he knew. He leaned back and gazed into her face, but she could not meet his eyes.

"Nothing is wrong." Her sudden inability to meet his gaze only confirmed his belief. She sighed resignedly and pieced her words together carefully. "I cannot tell the full story, only that my opinion of someone has changed dramatically in one evening."

"Is it something I've done?" He turned her face towards his, furrowing his brow with worry.

"Of course not." She managed a small chuckle and kissed him reassuringly. "You are still my Abram."

"You have not put me at ease…but I will never force you to tell me something unwillingly unless not telling the secret will harm another."

He looked so regal. She wondered now if he'd use the same face to gain information—his chin slightly lowered and eyes leveled with her face. It looked as though he were peering over a pair of bifocals. It was extremely disconcerting.

"No one will be hurt." She startled herself with her own words. Could that really be true? She thought of Clarence and the animosity as described by Jeremiah…

"Let's get some rest. We have at least three hours before I am to go back to the castle." He stood and lifted Cinderella in his arms.

"I'm coming, too." She marveled at his strength—he looked weak and tired, but he did not falter and gently placed her on the mattress.

"But the honeymoon--" he protested as he walked to the other side of the bed.

"Honeymoons are meant for two people. Therefore, I go where you go."

"But--"

"Shhh…" She closed her eyes and pulled the quilt above her shoulders. "You will not change my mind."

A yawn interrupted his protests, and by the time he had regained his voice, Cinderella was fast asleep.

- - -

"So you're certain I can't convince you to stay here?"

"Positive." Cinderella opened her trunk and rummaged through the contents half-heartedly. She was intensely drowsy—too much still hung heavy in her mind. "I didn't bring any elegant clothes to make myself presentable in front of your father."

Alaric straightened his "casual" dress coat the servant had insisted on packing. "I don't think he'll much care what you're wearing, my love."

She shrugged and stepped into a simple maroon dress, tying a small black ribbon that circled the waist. Glancing in the mirror, she found herself shocked at the tangled mess of hair in the reflection. After a few pitiful attempts at pulling a comb through the chaos, she tossed the comb aside and pulled her hair back with a ribbon, tucking uncooperative strands beneath pins with irritation. As soon as she took her hands away, the pins began to slip and the ribbon's knot loosened with the strain of holding her coarse mane.

"Oh, to hell with looking royal!" Her frustrated outcry brought laughter from the bathroom where Alaric was shaving. She opened her mouth to give him a sarcastic retort, but the sudden boom of a slamming door was an immediate distraction.

"My dear Libbie! What--"

"Hello, Clarence."

Cinderella tensed. She recognized the voice of the frog prince.

"What's going on?" Alaric peered around the bathroom door, but his question was passed over with the increased activity below.

The sound of a toppling chair was followed by an ear-piercing scream.

"Jeremiah, NO!" Libbie shouted, but the sounds of struggle continued.

The impact of fist with jaw could be heard from where Cinderella sat. Alaric abandoned the razor and ran quickly down the stairs, shaving cream splattering against the steps as he went. She was on her feet in an instant.

"No, there's no need, Alaric—Clarence, _stop_!"

"You should be _dead_!"

Cinderella froze at the last step. Libbie stood by an upturned table, her fingers clutching Alaric's shirt, which was now covered with blood. She tensed, but realized it had come from Jeremiah's broken and dripping nose. Her sigh of relief was short-lived, however, when she noticed a glistening of metal. Clarence held a knife in his hand, but Jeremiah seemed not to notice—his eyes burned deeply into Clarence's pale and bruised face. Alaric stood between them, each hand gripping a man's shirt, but neither man saw him.

"Dead? Oh, no my friend..." Jeremiah's voice was a growl. "I've been watching you grow old and withered, collapsing around the secrets you've been keeping. Libbie--"

Clarence lunged forward, knife raised.

"ABRAM!" The gleam of the knife was blinding. She closed her eyes and strained to hear the mens' struggle beneath Libbie's screams, trying to make sense of the chaos. The noise was jumbled, and she winced with every outcry of pain

The _clink_ of a knife hitting the floor was finally heard, and Cinderella opened her eyes. Jeremiah was leaning heavily against the wall, his fingers cupping a dripping nose and wiping his eyes clean of a fresh wound above his eyebrow. Alaric stood above Clarence, whose frail figure lay trembling on the floor.

Libbie picked up an overturned chair and slumped heavily into it. Her entire figure trembled as her eyes flitted back and forth between the men. Alaric gathered his wits, wincing as he stepped back to glance at each man.

"Just what, exactly, is going on?" Clarence opened his mouth, but Alaric stopped him, "And I only want an answer if you can explain calmly and rationally." He leaned down and clutched the red-stained blade. Cinderella noticed a fresh slice on his upper arm and the start of a nasty bruise on his cheek.

"This man--" Jeremiah stepped forward, his voice muffled behind a hand.

"I did whatever I could to get the woman I loved..." Clarence's voice was intense and biting.

"Which included faking my death and having me turned into a frog!"

Alaric's brow furrowed. "Is this true, Clarence?" His voice revealed utter disbelief.

"It's true." Libbie spoke for him. "For fifty years I have been living with the wrong man. I was deceived...and I do not think my heart can forgive—can overcome..." Her face glistened with tears, but she remained motionless. She breathed a sigh, her eyes fixed on Clarence's face. "I'm not angry." She sounded surprised—a smile glittered behind her eyes. "I _pity _you."

Cinderella gripped the handrail above the stairs. She could not fathom the possibility of pity at that moment...and how it could be directed toward Clarence. It just wasn't possible.

Libbie stood, ignoring Alaric's persistent questions.

"How were you deceived? I don't understand. What's going on?"

She took Jeremiah's arm and led him to the kitchen without a second glance in Clarence's direction.

"Wait, I don't--"

The kitchen door swung shut. Alaric's curiosity seemed to deflate as Clarence began to moan at his feet.

"Oh, my Libbie...my love..."

Cinderella's heart shuddered at the sight—a grown and withered man, bloodied by cuts and blackened by bruises...weeping. She did not see or hear anything but Clarence's pain. Figures moved past her and out the door—but she only watched his face. His blue eyes glistened with tears and blood. This man exiled another, resorted to witchcraft, even, just to satisfy his own selfishness—and Libbie actually pitied him. He writhed with pain, not from the skin-deep scratches; the pain went much deeper. His heart was breaking. The guilt was setting in, and she could see it.

"Cinderella, answer me!" Alaric spoke directly into her ear, and she jumped, startled from her trance-like state.

"I'm sorry...what?"

"I said Libbie and Jeremiah are gone. I don't think they're coming back. What should we do?"

Clarence's sobs increased until they could no longer talk over him.

Cinderella ran to the bar and grabbed a bottle of ale. She took the clean bandage from the kitchen and began dabbing half-heartedly at Clarence's wounds while motioning for Alaric to pour more ale into the man's mouth and keep his mindless thrashing to a minimum.

After five helpings of ale, Clarence finally fell into a silent drunken stupor, where he remained for the entire carriage ride back to the castle.

- - -

"Oh, stop moving!" Bridgett scolded as she stitched up his wound. "Almost done...there." She tied the string and handed a roll of fresh bandages to Cinderella. "You wrap him up."

Clarence's moans could be heard from the next room.

"That old fool..." Bridgett muttered on her way out the door.

Alaric's eyes followed her form, his mind distant.

"What happened?" His eyes turned towards Cinderella inquisitively.

She focused on wrapping his wound and paused to gather her wits after tying the cloth.

"I will tell you." She explained everything with the greatest care, doing her best to answer his questions and ignore Clarence's sobbing from the guest room.

"I just can't believe..." He sighed heavily and took her hand in his, pausing for what seemed like eternity. "I love you."

She nodded, wiping a tear that fell down his bruised cheek. He pulled her into an embrace.

"Don't you worry—I'm not going anywhere."

- - -

"My dearest daughter-in-law, how kind of you to come!" The king was sitting up in a very regal pose, his stiffly bandaged leg held in place by a fortress of feather down pillows. "I would embrace you, but as you can see, I am rather constricted here."

She smiled. His eyes twinkled. He was bright and alert and seemingly free of pain despite the bandages across the left side of his body. His face was flushed and slightly swollen on one side, but he had, indeed, survived.

"My servants tell me you are coming back to the castle. Why so soon, my dear? You have only been away for all of three days, if that!"

"Well..." Cinderella looked at her feet. They hadn't discussed how to answer questions upon their arrival since they requested that Clarence's presence in the castle be kept silent.

Before she could think of an excuse, the king blurted out "Where is that son of mine?"

"He's had a rough day..."

"Yes, that boy has been fretting too much about me. I have told him to take you away immediately. I'm being taken care of expertly, but he simply refuses." He reached a hand towards her. She stepped forward and sat on the bed beside him. "I hope you aren't too disappointed, my dear."

She laughed heartily, "I need to get used to castle life eventually."

He smiled, his eyes lighting up with mischievously. "I wonder if I might ask a favor..." He looked around for servants and then pulled a large book from behind his pillow. "They won't allow me to read because they say it's too much of a strain—but could you...?"

"Why, certainly!"

She took the marvelously bound book in her hands. It was a collection of fairy tales from the kingdom written by a very old and very renowned author. The pages were yellowed with age and the cover had lost its shine, but it was magnificent, most likely a first edition. She opened the cover and let the sweet scent waft towards her. After a moment, she realized the king had been watching.

"Oh, sorry..." She blushed heavily.

"I have found a kindred spirit in you, my dear! I notice the smell, too..." He tapped his nose playfully and urged her to begin.

She cleared her throat and opened to the first story. "_The Tale of the Traveling Companion_. Poor John was greatly troubled..."

- - -

**So? I had fun writing it once I convinced myself it was worth writing.**

**Gosh, listen to me! I sound pitiful. Don't worry, I'm not depressed--just sleep deprived and stressed. -grin-  
**

**This term is going to be insane, so this may be the last update you get for a while. Please leave some feedback! I need to know what to fix...and what's good...actually, I just need assurance that this is still worth reading. I'm not fishing for compliments, just genuine feedback. Thanks, all!  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**Dear readers,**

**This has been a long time coming.**

**Dream Come True**

_Chapter 18_

Seasons passed. It was mid-winter, nearly time for Christmas. Much had happened, but for the moment, she'd much rather enjoy the favorable weather while it lasted.

"Come on, Bruno!" She kicked her boots and laughed as the dog chased after flying chunks of snow.

Her gloves were soaked, but Bruno's pitiful whimpering convinced her one more snowball wouldn't hurt. He barked and pranced back and forth, his puppyish excitement making him seem much younger than his scraggly appearance revealed.

"Fetch!" Her aim was terrible. The ball exploded against the trunk of a tree, but Bruno was beside himself with glee and ran back to her with a mouthful of snow. "I'm done for now." She removed her glove and scratched behind his ears. "Try not to get in trouble, you old thing!"

As she made her way indoors, a brilliant idea dawned on her. Her lips turned upward in a mischievous smile. _What a perfect way to break the news..._

Alaric stirred when she crept under the covers.

"You're positively frozen!" He exclaimed as she pressed her chilled feet against his leg.

She laughed and snuggled closer to his warmth. "You sleep far too much."

He looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes, "And you never sleep at all! What time is it?"

"Time for you to get up!" She pulled her glove from its hiding place against her back and dumped the snow on his face.

"AH!" He sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of his rude awakening.

Laughing hysterically, she jumped from the bed and took a defensive position behind a chair.

"Oh, you definitely don't know who you're dealing with." He grabbed his shorts and pulled them on quickly before scooping up some of the quickly melting snow.

She shrieked as he tossed large chunks of ice around the chair. "Alright, truce! Truce!" Cinderella stood and raised her hands in surrender.

"Well, good, because I ran out of ammunition."

She smiled and stepped towards him. "I have something to tell you..."

Alaric moved closer, looking intently into her eyes. "I do, too."

"Oh," her eyes widened, "well, you first."

"What I have to say is quite simple actually..." He pulled her into his arms, smiling down at her mysteriously.

"What?" She was actually baffled by the unreadable expression on his face.

"I lied..." He shoved a chunk of snow into her open mouth with a triumphant shout. "And I win!"

She pushed him away irritably and wiped her mouth, struggling to swallow her laughter. "How dare you!"

He chuckled and moved towards her once more. "It's your turn, now."

"Hmm," She paused, seeming to consider her best options, "You'll have to catch me first!" With that, she grabbed her gloves and bolted out the door before he could take hold of her sleeve.

"Cinderella!" Laughter followed her footsteps as she descended the stairs and burst from the back door into the white-smothered garden.

She had just enough time to hide and gather the proper materials before Alaric was dressed and down the stairs.

She was in the process of making her fifth snowball when he suddenly emerged from the kitchen. She pressed herself against her refuge—an enormous oak at the edge of the main gardens. Taking great pains to stay invisible, she peered around the trunk, but Alaric was nowhere in sight. Two pairs of footprints led away from the front porch—her own, and a fresh set that traced her path.

_I forgot about hiding my tracks!_

It was too late to remedy her mistake before—

"Caught you!" Two arms pulled her onto the ground, and a mittened hand pressed snow into her open mouth.

Coughing and laughing, she returned the favor by stealing one of his gloves and tossing it towards an expectant Bruno, who inevitably took it off to be buried.

"I win!" She fell back into the snow and cackled viciously, unable to stop when he joined in, mocking her dramatic tendencies.

Their laughter subsided after a few breathless moments, and all seemed calm for a moment. Alaric was giving her a meaningful look, and she remembered her initial purpose in dragging him out of bed at dawn.

"You want to guess what news I have for you?"

He chuckled and crawled towards her on his stomach. "I was never very good at guessing—but you already know that."

She nodded and took a deep breath, calming the fluttering of her stomach as she prepared the words in her mind. "I think I'm going to have a baby."

Biting her lip, she watched as he mulled over her words; his face expressed surprise, shock, puzzlement, and then his eyes began to glitter, his lips turning up into an irrepressible grin.

"And _I_ think," he paused to sit up, "that is the most wonderful—" His voice faltered as he seemed lost for words, wiping a joyful tear as it fell down his cheek.

She let out a sigh of relief and pulled herself into his arms, her body trembling with excitement and expectation as he placed his chilled hands on either side of her face and kissed every inch of it.

. . . . .

They walked hand in hand through the front doors, both faces mirroring the same silly grin. Alaric's heart was overflowing with joy, and he was tempted to spill the news to the first servant that crossed their path, but after a moment, they became painfully aware of a grand commotion in the floor above them.

He looked at his wife pleadingly, wishing he didn't have to see the frown that suddenly overtook her flushed features.

She met his gaze and spoke aloud the thoughts that seemed to plague both of their minds. "We'll have to wait to tell them, won't we?"

Several frantic cries for extra hands echoed down the stairs.

Alaric nodded solemnly, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach as they began to make their way towards the uproar. Servants ran about frantically, some calling for a doctor while others shouted for bandages.

"Prepare for the worst!" A familiar voice called out above the rest, and soon Bridgett's face appeared among the chaos. Her aristocratic airs softened when she saw the two of them standing at the end of the hall. "Oh, dear!" She ran towards them and placed a hand on Cinderella's arm, desperately holding back tears.

"What's happened? Is the King unwell?" Cinderella's voice shook with the effort of self control.

"His Majesty is quite well, indeed—but that is not the issue." She took a moment and sucked in a deep breath. "I came in to check on Mr. Clarence this morning and he has managed to…to wander off without me knowing. Oh, I feel so ashamed!"

"It isn't your fault, Bridgett." Alaric tried to comfort the frazzled woman and began to form a plan in his mind. All this mess could have been avoided. "Listen up, now!" He stepped aside from his wife and caught the attention of the scrambling servants. Many of them dropped what they were doing and immediately came towards him, eyes down in reverence. "We will form three search parties, one for each floor. Each party will split again to cover the separate wings on each level. Gather any other servants you can find along the way and send them to the larger rooms and the towers." Everyone nodded in assent and began to disperse.

In moments, the three of them, Alaric, Bridgett, and Cinderella, were alone in the hallway. He moved to take Cinderella's hand once more, hoping to express some sort of apology, but she was busy comforting her maid. Nothing seemed to go right for them.

"Cinderella…" He began, but she stopped him, pulling away from Bridgett with a determined expression.

"We should take part in this as well. Bridgett and I will start looking in this wing here and spread out to the attic." She put a hand on his arm as he started to move in that direction. "You should see to your father. He will want to know...everything. From the beginning."

They still hadn't told his father what had happened at the hotel the many months prior. He opened his mouth to protest, but her steady gaze kept him in check. He nodded and obeyed reluctantly, turning to watch his wife disappear into their bedroom as he raced down the stairs.

Bridgett close on her heels, Cinderella moved into her bedchamber without thinking. She was most likely in shock from the whole affair. The sharp swing from joy to fright had left her feeling emotionally exhausted. She realized she still wore her stuffy winter garments and began tearing them from her person, tossing them haphazardly to the floor. She grabbed one of the plainest dresses from her closet and commenced a pointless search of the bedchamber while her protesting maid tried to lace up the dress into proper order.

Cinderella ran into the hall and left Bridgett far behind as she bolted from room to room, growing more restless and frantic by the minute. She didn't encounter any other servants in her destructive path. She tore closets apart, left beds unmade and every door ajar, knowing in her heart it was fruitless. But she couldn't stop herself.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she was looking in all the wrong places—they all were. She turned on her heel and retraced her footsteps, nearly bumping into a flushed and perspiring Bridgett on her way around the bend in the hall.

"Quick—take me to the kitchens!"

Her head swirled with immediate realizations. It would have been easy for him to hide there. Mornings were chaos in the kitchens. Cook kept a strict schedule, but there were often so many bodies in one small space, it would be easy to miss the addition of an unfamiliar face. Clarence could have slipped in without notice. Now that she thought about it, only a handful of the servants had actually laid eyes on the man.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and bolted towards the kitchens. The swinging doors opened and she knew at once she had been right. There he stood—arms caked up to his elbows in baking flour, his apron smeared with what looked like blueberry juice—and his face telling them he had not a care in the world. Neither Bridgett nor Cinderella spoke or moved from their position at the door. It was difficult to accept this man who at one time was on the brink of suicide now had such a cheerful, rosy countenance about him that he nearly glowed. This couldn't possibly be the same person…?

"Oh, good morning!" He looked up with a wide grin, one that she recognized from what seemed like ages ago. "Care for a blueberry scone? They are quite delicious—and right out of the oven." He motioned toward a fresh tray of steaming delicacies. They did look tempting.

"Bridgett, I think you best tell everyone…" Cinderella glanced in her servant's direction, but the maid didn't need any prodding. She was out of the door in moments. Her voice could be heard shouting down the hallway and echoing against the enormous stairwell.

Cinderella didn't know where to begin, so she simply helped herself to one of the scones and munched on it thoughtfully while silence overtook the kitchen.

He didn't seem to notice her continued study of him while he focused on preparing another tray for the oven. When he did finally look up, she was already finishing her second scone.

"Do you like them?"

She nodded silently. Her mind was so filled with questions that she could barely manage a simple reply. "Quite good."

He smiled and placed the pan into the oven.

"You gave us quite a fright, disappearing like you did." She contemplated helping herself to thirds, but her stomach had suddenly grown uneasy from the stresses of the past hour.

"Is that so?" His eyes were blank as if he didn't know what she was talking about, or perhaps he simply didn't care.

Her head suddenly ached, the room tipping uncomfortably around her, and she fumbled towards a wooden chair in the corner by the fire. The running seemed to catch up with her all at once, or perhaps it was another wave of morning sickness. Whatever the cause, he didn't seem to notice her sufferings and whistled tunefully as he placed a pan in the oven.

"Clarence…" She waited until he had turned his full attention on her, and though she searched his eyes, she found no recognizable resemblance to the man she had met for the first time ages ago. The smile was the same, the glow about his cheeks was familiar, but his eyes revealed something entirely different…something darker.

"Could you fetch me a glass of water?" Her brow was perspiring with the heat from the fire, but she felt oddly chilled. The room was now unsettled, rocking about as if she were on a ship in the midst of a raging sea storm.

"Certainly." A smile twitched at the corner of his lips, but it did not touch his eyes.

"I feel so strange." Her voice sounded small and far away. Her heart was pounding an erratic tempo inside her chest.

"Here you are, my child." He held the glass out to her, but he pulled it out of her reach as she leaned forward.

Suddenly, she found herself on the floor. Clarence had not moved—she had fallen entirely from her chair and was peering up into his face. He looked oddly smug as he drank the water that was intended for her in one swig.

"What's going on?"

He didn't answer and moved towards the oven, pulling a steaming pan of scones out and placing them individually on the cooling rack.

"Clarence," Cinderella's voice trembled, "What did you put in them?" She was paralyzed on the floor.

"It's a special recipe of mine."

Her vision began to blur, but she saw the smile that crossed his face. He had poisoned her.

"But…" She clutched her stomach—_what about the baby?_—and forced her eyes to keep a steady gaze on his figure as the world vibrated and spun. "Why?"

But he didn't answer. She watched him from her place on the floor as he seemed to move in slow motion, washing his hands in the sink and pulling on a heavy coat. He stepped towards the back door, and with one last glittering smile in her direction, he was gone. She was powerless to stop him.

Helpless, she lay on the floor, trying to catch her breath between the shudders that overtook her body. She felt no pain, but the drug was taking its toll. The world around her grew dark, and life was slowly seeping from her limbs.

. . . . .

"Cinderella!" A voice spoke close by, its tones echoing to her from a distance.

She felt nothing. She seemed to have no form at all, yet the voice continued to speak. "Oh, my, my, my. This simply will not do."

"Bridgett?" She spoke, but it seemed to come from another body entirely.

"No, no, my child. Has it been so long for you to forget me entirely?"

She tried to open her eyes, but it seemed she had none to open. "I can't see."

"Ah, yes. That happens sometimes, dear. Never you worry, my child. I will set things to right."

Cinderella suddenly recognized the voice. "Fairy Godmother?" She could picture the plump woman, her rosy face surrounded by playful wisps of white hair.

"Yes, dear. But I'm afraid to say things are much worse now than when we first met. This is no glass slipper! Oh, indeed, no. This was not supposed to happen, you see."

Cinderella suddenly saw herself lying on the kitchen floor, face as pale as the snow outside the kitchen door that was left ajar. Her body looked so small from where she peered down in some disembodied form.

"I'm not ready to die, Fairy Godmother. There are too many things I want to do."

"That's exactly why I'm here, my child! I'm to put things to right. Vita won't have her way this time."

"Who?"

"No one, my dear. Never you mind. This one's going to be a little stickier than last time, so you might be a bit disoriented when you awake. Just close your eyes and say 'bibbity, bobbity, boo!'"

As soon as she spoke the last syllable, her eyes were open and staring at the wooden frame of a four-poster bed. She closed her eyes and opened them again to make sure she wasn't dreaming—but this time she could feel her fingers and toes and the satisfying thump of her heartbeat as her chest rose and fell. Her eyes scanned the dimly lit room, and she realized she was in the room that she and Alaric had chosen together for their own. She moved her hand and found the bed beside her empty. Soft snoring emanated from the shadows, and she could just make out Bridgett's hunched over sleeping figure in a chair against the wall.

"Bridgett?" She whispered, not wishing to frighten her maid, but desperate to get some answers. "Bridgett!"

The maid sat up with a start, her eyes looking about blearily until they cleared on Cinderella's form on the bed.

"Oh, my mistress! You're awake!" She stood quickly and bounded across the room to take Cinderella's hand in her own. "How are you feeling?"

"What's happened? Where is Alaric?" She sat up, her head swimming with questions.

"Please don't stress yourself!" She pushed her reluctant mistress back onto the pillows. "You've had a trying week. The doctor said you aren't allowed to move about until he is sure everything has taken its course."

"But is everyone okay? Did anyone else get poisoned?"

Bridgett seated herself on the edge of the mattress and reached over to brush stubborn strands of hair from Cinderella's face. "You were the only one."

"And the baby?"

The woman's face was solemn. "The doctor said it is a miracle you are alive...and that perhaps your baby will need one as well. Time will only tell."

Cinderella nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat to ask hoarsely, "And where is my husband?"

"We tried to stop him…"

"He has gone in search of Clarence?"

Bridgett nodded and pressed her hand reassuringly. Silence fell over both of them for a moment.

Cinderella felt—_knew_ that the search would be fruitless. Clarence was crafty and would do everything in his power to slip from their clutches. She didn't voice her suspicion and allowed her mind to mull over everything that had happened. It was hard to make heads or tails of how she felt. Her body was weak, but she was alive, thanks to the kind providence of her Fairy Godmother. But what about the child?

_Would it be asking too much to request one more miracle?_

She would have to wait, just as Bridgett had said. A dark cloud hung over her mind as she thought about the months to come and how it may prove to be the hardest time of her life. She only wished her prince was here to carry her through.

. . . . .

**Please review, but be kind. It's been a really rough year (or two).**

**I love all of you dearly.**


	19. Chapter 19

**STOP RIGHT THERE! Did you read the previous chapter in its entirety? If not, you may be a tad bit lost in this chapter. **

**If you have already read chapter 18, then please, do continue!**

**Don't let me interrupt!**

**Honest!**

**:D**

**Dream Come True**

_Chapter 19_

Bridgett kept a watchful eye on her mistress over the next week. She seemed weary, but for reasons other than the slow recovery of her health. And then as suddenly as this whole affair had begun, her mistress was up and about, donning simple dresses once more and wandering the halls of the dusty, forgotten nursery.

"I do think you should rest a bit more." Bridgett protested, attempting to remove the broom and dustpan from Cinderella's hands.

"You may worry and fuss to your heart's content when I can no longer see my toes or bend over, but for now, let me have a little freedom! I am so tired of being cooped up in one room." Her face lit up with the ghost of a familiar smile. Her eyes were circled by dark rings, and her cheeks seemed swollen, a side-effect of whatever drug she was administered, but she seemed alert and anxious.

"Whatever you wish, Cinderella." Bridgett was resigned. She had tried to wrestle with her mistress's stubborn will before, but for now, she would let her have her way without argument as long as she was permitted to stay within arm's reach.

_Let her do anything she pleases, _she thought, _but she will not be rid of my presence for one second!_

. . . . .

Cinderella's heart pained her at times. At first, she worried it was damaged from exposure to the poison, but its steady beat never faltered. She didn't tell her maid about it—that would only increase her hovering and worrying. No, she knew the cause all too well. It was a pain that began as soon as she heard Alaric had left in search of Clarence. She felt the pain in moments when her mind dwelled on his absence and at night when she was completely alone, when she longed for the cold, empty place beside her on the mattress to be filled by his warmth.

Her arms moved in a steady, familiar motion as she swept the remaining dust into the pan. It relaxed her to do these chores. Her eyes looked up from her task at the room around her, a soft smile pulling at her lips as she looked over Alaric's childhood paintings that were tacked to the wall by his small hands so many years ago. His paint set stood abandoned in one corner, along with several cobweb-covered chests that were filled with toys of all shapes and colors. A rocking horse stood opposite them, its cloth hair dulled by layers of dust. If she tried hard enough, she could almost picture it rocking once more, its seat occupied by her own dear child.

She knew the only reason she got through the days at all was with the thought that someday months down the line, this room would be filled with laughter again. Small hands would find their way into the paint and perhaps smear the wall in the same place Alaric's mischievous fingers had drawn with juvenile inspiration. The chests would be opened and toys would soon litter the floor and somehow always manage to multiply as to make cleaning up difficult.

She set the broom aside and stepped towards the window, pulling aside the draperies and suppressing a sneeze as she looked out onto the gardens. The snow was melting in places on the ground, glittering in the morning sunlight. Her eyes were drawn to the front gates and the unmarked cobblestone drive. How long would Alaric be away? A twinge of pain surged through her heart, and she reached a hand over to feel the pulsing of its beat inside her chest. If he didn't come home soon, it may stop altogether.

"Something wrong, my dear?" Bridgett spoke softly at her elbow.

Cinderella hadn't heard the maid come in. She managed a small smile as she peered into the woman's soft, friendly face. "Just missing my prince."

Bridgett put an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss onto her cheek. "Don't fret, Cinderella. I know he won't be able to stay away from you for very long."

She allowed a few tears to drip from her eyes as she nodded slowly, unable to express her gratitude in words.

"How about some tea before we begin, hmm?"

After Bridgett was satisfied Cinderella had had enough tea, they began hauling the furniture into the hallway and mopping the floor. In compliance with her maid's wishes, she allowed one extra servant to remain at hand to keep the water in the bucket from becoming too filthy, but she was glad to be doing the work herself. Once the floor was cleaned and dried, they washed the windows and draperies and brought the furniture back inside, placing everything exactly as it had been before.

Cinderella surveyed the room with pleasure before they left for supper. Perhaps if she could keep finding things to do, she would manage to stay sane until Alaric returned.

. . . . .

"The doctor is here to see you." Bridgett's insistent voice was a rather unwelcome wake-up call. She squinted in the light as the drapes in the bedroom were flung open.

"So early?" Cinderella mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her weary eyes.

"It's actually closer to lunch time, I believe." The voice startled her, and she looked up and saw a blurred figure beside her bed.

She blinked until her vision cleared. "Doctor Harris?"

"Indeed, Madam." It was the doctor that had tried to save her stepmother…and was, strangely enough, in love with her stepsister Drizella. He set his black bag on the bedside table and pulled a golden watch on a chain from his vest pocket while he checked her pulse.

"Are you feeling especially tired of late?" His stern eyes remained on the watch face while he pressed her wrist.

"Well, yes. I was rather active yesterday, but I've been sleeping in much later than usual. It doesn't seem to be enough sometimes." She yawned uncontrollably.

"Yes, that's to be expected. I've also given your maid a specific diet." He reached over and pushed his thumb gently against the skin below her eyes, one at a time, while he peered into them. "You look alert and overall in good condition considering the ordeal you've been through." He leaned back and reached into his bag, handing a bottle of vitamins to Bridgett.

Was he the doctor who treated her when she was poisoned?

"You'll need to be eating much more than usual—I'm afraid you are a little underweight."

Cinderella nodded as he scribbled some notes onto a slip of paper and handed it to her expectant and fretting maid. Bridgett was going to be waiting on her hand and foot, and would most likely be more insistent about it than usual. She sighed to herself, dreading the suffocating attentions she would be receiving from everyone.

"I suggest getting plenty of exercise, but don't push yourself too much. Perhaps leave the cleaning to the maids, hmm?" A smile pulled at his thin lips, lighting his otherwise dull features with a pleasant glow. "A good brisk walk twice a day should do it, I believe."

She thanked him and waited while Bridgett asked several questions to clarify what her exact duties would be over the next few months. They talked as if she wasn't present, or completely deaf. Did they not think she would hear if they whispered just three feet from her bed?

It seemed the doctor would be a regular visitor once a week to check on the progress of her pregnancy…and to do all he could to prevent a miscarriage. He had his back to her for a moment, but his lack of confidence in the health of her child was evident in the reflection on Bridgett's troubled face.

"The poison was of a very unusual mixture," she heard him mumble before he turned to her suddenly, as if recognizing her presence for the first time. "Drizella wished me to give this to you personally." He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a sealed letter, handing it to her with a curt bow and farewell.

She caught the sparkle in his eyes as he took one last glance at the letter before he led Bridgett out of the room. Their conversation continued for some time outside her door, but she ignored them and broke the wax seal on the letter.

_My dearest Cinderella,_ a sloppy hand had written at the top of the letter, _This is a formal invitation to my wedding! Usually I let Harris take care of the letter-writing and invitation-sending, but I insisted on doing this one myself. You are cordially invited to attend our wedding this February the 1__st__ at Harimond Chapel on Third Street at ten a.m. I expect to hear back from you soon. _

_Yours ever,_

_Drizella_

Cinderella sighed heavily, letting the letter fall limp at her side. The date was only two weeks away. Would she be ready by then to suffer through a wedding?

After dressing and reluctantly pulling herself from bed, she accepted the vitamins with her late breakfast and swiftly dismissed Bridgett, asking for a few moments peace while she visited the king.

"Good morning!" The king's cheerful, booming voice echoed against the high ceiling of his office. It was as if the accident a few months ago had never happened. He had been bedridden for months, but he swiftly regained his ruddy complexion and was up and about in short time.

She shared in the broad smile that pulled at his lips. This visit would do her good. "Good morning, Your Majesty." She curtseyed and grinned at his protests.

"Too proper, my dear. Altogether too proper!" He chuckled and motioned to a cushioned chair that sat across his paper-littered desk. "Come, sit. Keep me company while I take care of some dull business."

Cinderella took her seat and waited while he shuffled some things about, scribbling here and there with his quill before he looked up and gave her his full attention.

"If there's one thing I must tell you to be the absolute worst thing about ruling a country, it is all this confounded paperwork! There's the taxes to be paid and collected, and the letters to read and reply to, the meals to plan, the offers to decline…" He ran a hand through his white hair, which made it stick out in a wild frenzy about his face.

"Would you like some help?"

"Oh, my dear, I cannot ask you to take part in such dull proceedings…"

"As a matter of fact," she quickly thought of some excuses before he dismissed her entirely. "Bridgett would approve! It would keep me from overtiring myself, you see." She was in great need of some of his cheerfulness and wasn't quite ready to leave his presence.

The king mulled over it for a moment, and then his eyes lit up with contagious mirth. "You know what, my dear, that is quite an offer, and I wouldn't dream of turning it down!" His gaze rested on her face and he leaned forward as if sharing a secret. "And perhaps if _you_ are helping me, I won't have to deal with Weldon. Never have I seen a stiffer more disagreeable man in my life!" He let forth a hearty laugh and then turned his eyes back to the tasks at hand. "Tell me, my dear, do you know anything about letter-writing?"

"I'm willing to learn."

"Good! I love an eager assistant." He beckoned her to his side and began fishing numerous letters out of the stacks of paper.

A prompt knock on the door interrupted his progress.

"Enter!" The king boomed across the room.

The door opened, admitting a tall, slim gentleman with harsh features. In one glance, she could tell the type of man this was. Not a single black hair on his head was out of place. His small blue eyes surveyed her figure with marked disapproval beneath dark, curved eyebrows. As he straightened his already erect posture by the door, he seemed to look down his long, Romanesque nose at her, his thin lips turned down in a scowl. As he approached, she marveled at the grace of his movements—they seemed so natural as to appear rehearsed.

"A letter for you, Your Majesty." His white gloved hand offered the wax-sealed envelope with a flourish as he bent at the waist in a stiff bow. His uniform was so symmetrical and cut in a way that it seemed a part of his being entirely.

"Yes, thank you, Weldon."

She wasn't surprised in the least.

"Is there anything I can do for you today, Your Majesty? Perhaps dictate a letter?"

"No. I believe I am all taken care of today." He reached over and patted Cinderella's arm with a smile.

Mr. Weldon's lips curled in distaste. She found that if it weren't for these horrid expressions that seemed to rule his features, he would be a handsome man.

"Then I take my leave, Your Majesty."

"Very well. Yes, go, go!" The king waved his hand impatiently at the man before turning to hand Cinderella the unopened letter.

Mr. Weldon watched the transfer for a moment, his scowl falling into an expression of utter disbelief before he bestowed another stiff bow. He turned swiftly on his heel and left, allowing the door to close a little louder than necessary.

The king didn't seem to notice the insult he had inadvertently given to his assistant, and Cinderella didn't have the heart to mention it.

And so Cinderella swiftly became the king's secretary, in a sense. He taught her how to address official letters, balance the royal budget, calculate tax reductions, and told her all that went on in official meetings and proposal counsels. She delighted in learning new things as well as taking stock of what she would need to know in the future. The thought of having these responsibilities all to herself was frightening—she tried not to dwell on it.

Her assistance slowly became a routine. Every day after her late breakfast, she would join the king in his study and start anew with fresh letters and proposals, all delivered, of course, by the disagreeable Weldon. She soon took the liberty of organizing his desk into proper order, which had to be done each time she met with him. He was an atrocious organizer.

"You know, my dear," the king took her hand for a moment during one of their meetings, "my wife was the one who did all the housekeeping, and when she passed on, I was quite beside myself. It's been a joy to have someone around as sweet as you to keep this old man in line." He motioned to himself and smiled jovially at her.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly, unable to tell him how truly touched she was.

. . . . .

Bridgett's recent tendency to fret and fuss was about to drive Cinderella up the wall. It took all kinds of pleading and convincing to get her maid to allow a stroll into town.

"The doctor suggested a brisk stroll twice a day, but isn't a long walk _once_ a day about the same principle?"

Bridgett seemed to weigh the options, and finally she agreed, on the conditions that Cinderella dress properly and take one person with her. She had expected her maid to suggest something of the kind, so she had already chosen her intended escort.

"How about that young maid whose mother is the head cook?"

"What, you mean Abby? Oh, but Miss—"

"I will not argue the point. Either she comes with me, or I take no exercise at all." Cinderella crossed her arms, knowing she would get her way eventually.

Bridgett put her hands on her stout hips and gave her a half-hearted smile. "You _are_ stubborn."

Cinderella grinned and hugged her maid. "In all your worrying ways, I know you're doing it for my own good, and I appreciate it."

"Be back before dinner?" Bridgett stood back and stared pointedly at her mistress.

"Agreed." After promising several times that she would put on the clothes her maid had laid out for her, she waited in her room for the arrival of her escort.

The door opened, admitting the short, mousy maid she had met on the day of her wedding. They were never formally introduced, but something about the girl's reserved nature appealed to her.

"G-good afternoon, Your Highness!" She curtseyed awkwardly, her arms full with her winter coat, and kept her eyes downcast, her rosy complexion deepening in hue.

Cinderella mimicked her maid by putting her hands on her hips. "Now, none of that today. If you and I are to be friends, you will have to dispense with that behavior this instant!"

The girl looked up suddenly and seemed to calm slightly when she took in the playful grin on Cinderella's face. "Yes, Your—um, Miss."

"Just call me Cinderella." She stepped forward and took the girls trembling hands in her own. "How do you feel about going to town today…in disguise?" She lowered her voice and took in Abby's soft features. She didn't appear to be much younger than Cinderella, but she was so painfully shy, it was hard to tell.

"I've never thought about it," she seemed to gather enough courage to smile before continuing, "but it does sound like it could be fun!"

"Wonderful! I have everything we need…" She hurried to her closet and pulled out the necessary garments, fully prepared to have an adventure.

They were soon dressed, each of them hiding their disguises under their winter coats. Cinderella led both of them from her room and down the hall. None of the passing servants had any notion of their intentions, so they were able to make their way swiftly to the front entrance without being questioned. As soon as they reached a bend in the road where they wouldn't be seen by any passersby and were far from sight of the castle, they set Cinderella's plan into action. They both took off their winter coats and stowed them behind a cluster of bushes, quickly pulling on the plain wool coats Cinderella had kept among the things she brought from her old home. Once they had their hair tied back and old, scuffed up shoes on their feet, they were ready.

"You ready?" Cinderella was happy to see a warm smile spread on Abby's face as they emerged from the bushes onto the road.

"Do you think anyone will recognize us?"

"I hope not."

At first, Cinderella worried that they would look too clean, but that was quickly remedied when they encountered patches of the road dampened by the melting snow. The hems of their skirts were soon drenched in mud, which made blending in with the crowd much easier. Despite the hustle of daily life on Main Street, Cinderella quickly made her way through the familiar marketplace, having nowhere to go but just enjoying the fresh air and the freedom to be normal again.

A familiar scent filled the air, and she peered over the heads around her anxiously, her eyes finding their target in moments.

"Follow me!" She took Abby's hand and led them through the crowd to the other side of the street.

"Fresh bread!" A familiar voice called out from the end of the boardwalk. "Who doesn't have a loaf yet? One per family."

Cinderella beamed as she took in a familiar sight—Oswin, the baker, handing loaves to the needy. He looked up and recognized her immediately. She released Abby's hand to embrace him, realizing, as she stood back to study him, that his uniform fit a little looser than usual.

"I do believe you've lost a little weight, Oswin."

"The wife has me on a diet." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the kitchen, and Cinderella stepped towards the window.

Inside, through a cloud of flour, she suddenly saw her stepsister Anastasia with her sleeves rolled up to her elbow leaning over a steaming pan of fresh biscuits. She quickly stepped through the front entrance and caught her attention.

"When did you arrive in town?" Cinderella smiled at her stepsister, noticing a profound difference in her complexion. Her cheeks had filled out to give her face a pleasant roundness, and the smile that lit her eyes was genuine.

"We got wind of Drizella's marriage, and Oswin was getting a little stir-crazy. He missed his old bakery, so we came back a few weeks ago. We may be here to stay…" She moved from behind the counter and Cinderella gasped when she noticed another striking difference in her stepsister's appearance.

"Oh, Anastasia! When is the baby due?" She stepped forward and took her stepsister's hand in both of hers, unable to contain her excitement.

"Another month, I think. Whew!" She wiped her brow, inadvertently smearing some flour across her forehead, and pressed her free hand against her back. "I'll be glad when it's over!" She laughed and rested both of her hands on her round stomach. After a moment, her smile sobered. "But what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Cinderella wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I am so happy for you, it's just…"

"Cinderella!" Abby's desperate cry interrupted her, and she peered around Anastasia to see the small maid leaning against the doorjamb beside the open door, shaking like a frightened rabbit. She lowered her voice and whispered, "_Mr. Weldon is standing outside!_"

A familiar voice wafted into the small room, "And are you really handing these out for free, my good man? Does this not cause a dent in your profits?"

"What's going on?" Anastasia whispered, looking back and forth between the two of them.

Cinderella didn't have time to answer before Oswin entered the shop followed by Mr. Weldon. Abby was frozen beside the door, and Cinderella quickly turned towards the counter and pretended to survey the pastries in their display window. Anastasia resumed her position behind the counter, her face still revealing bewilderment.

"It is a small price to pay in order to feed the hungry. I say, wouldn't you agree, Cinderella?"

Anastasia was making unnecessary hand-motions to silence him, but Oswin hadn't caught any of it. Cinderella took a deep breath and turned slowly, resigning herself to defeat. She met the unpleasant gaze of Mr. Weldon, his lips turning up in a smile that did not convey pleasure.

"Why, Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise." He turned, his eyes looking Abby's figure up and down, "And Miss Trudie. Might I ask what this is all about?"

"Hello M-Mr. Weldon." Abby stuttered uselessly by the door.

Cinderella would have to think of something. And fast.

. . . . .

**Ah, it's been a while since I've left it at a proper cliffhanger.**

**I really hope I'm getting back into the swing of things.**

**Let me know how I'm doing!**

**Love always,**

''**Poo**


	20. Chapter 20

**All this time on my hands for updates, and I manage to squeeze in one. Count your blessings, my friends, because this will not be a repeat appearance once school begins again. **

**Also, I'm really excited that this is chapter 20 and my ideas are still holding strong for more! –does a happy dance-**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

**...**

**Dream Come True**

**...**

_Chapter 20_

Mr. Weldon's eyes flickered between the faces of Cinderella and Abby, his gaze lit with an unpleasant glow. "Care to explain why _you_," he motioned towards Cinderella, "are dressed thusly?"

"I wanted to go into town without being noticed." She straightened to her full height, but it was a sad comparison beneath the shadow of Weldon's towering figure.

"And you brought Miss Abigail along as an accomplice to your little…" his eyes scanned the flour-dusted bakery with distaste, "outing?"

"That's right. Just wanted to head into town without a big fuss. Nothing unusual about that, is there?" She hadn't meant to pose it as a question, since she had no desire to hear his answer, but it was too late to take the question back.

"I don't see anything wrong with it." Oswin came to her rescue and spoke up before the man could reply.

Weldon studied the stout baker and his very pregnant wife with a sneer before stepping forward, his face masked with one of dramatic amiability—which he lacked entirely without making an extreme effort. "We haven't been introduced. My name is Weldon."

Oswin frowned at the sudden change in the man before him but accepted his hand in a friendly gesture. "I am Oswin, and this is my beautiful wife Anastasia."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance." In one swift motion, he approached a very startled Anastasia and kissed her flour covered hand. He took a moment to surreptitiously wipe the white powder from his lips before offering a curt bow to Cinderella and extending his arm towards the door. "Shall I escort you home?"

The look in his eyes told her it wasn't exactly a request. She had other things she planned to do, but there was something about Mr. Weldon that gave her the impression it would be unwise to refuse. She gave Oswin and Anastasia an apologetic smile before reluctantly leading Abby and Mr. Weldon from the room and onto the street. He walked beside them with a triumphant air, nodding to passersby as if accepting their congratulations. She had a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach—would he use this as a means to regain his position with the King? The sting of his glances was tangible, and she vehemently wished she hadn't crossed his path to begin with. Being the object of someone's vengeance was an extremely uncomfortable position, but at least she was familiar with it.

"By the way, Your Highness…this letter came for you today."

Cinderella stopped in her tracks and stared at the man in horror. "You had the letter all this time…?"

"If you would like to make your way in now, I can escort Miss Abigail inside after we retrieve your discarded clothes."

"You _followed_ us here?" She didn't wait for his answer in defense and snatched the sealed letter from his outstretched fingers. She recognized the handwriting—it was from Alaric.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered except the unopened paper in her hands. Without a backwards glance, she let herself through the gate and raced to her bedroom. Bridgett made one attempt to slow her down for the safety of her health, but Cinderella evaded her clutches long enough to bolt herself into her bedroom.

She collapsed into the nearest chair, allowing herself a brief moment to study the letter in her fingers. There was no way to tell where it had traveled from. In a moment of panic, she wondered whether or not she should open it after all. What kind of news would he have to share? Her eyes filled with tears. It had been two weeks since she last saw Alaric, but it felt like an eternity.

Finally, she broke the wax seal with trembling fingers and poured over the scrawled words.

_My dearest, dearest Cinderella—_

_I have a very short time to write. I have so many things I wish to say, and I fear many of them will have to wait until I return. There was no time to say goodbye after it happened. I had to pursue him at all cost while the trail was fresh. I hope, my darling, you can forgive me for leaving in such haste. Bridgett will take good care of you—I have sent word to her as well—and I expect you to look after my father. No doubt you have already put yourself to work, but do not tire yourself on my account. A young man, whom I met while staying at an inn, has proven to be a very valuable companion, and with his help, I have remained well and safe. We will find him. Perhaps it is not what you wish, and I am sure you disapprove of my motives, but we cannot allow this man to get away without justice being served. I do not wish to distress you. Will send word as soon as we reach the next town. _

_All my heart,_

"_Abram."_

_p.s. I have been putting my disguise skills to great use—no one has yet recognized me! You would be very proud._

Cinderella lifted the letter and pressed her lips to his signature, drenching the paper with her tears as it brushed her cheeks. She read his words again and again until she had nearly every piece of it memorized.

When the fire had died down to glowing embers and the sky was beginning to darken, she finally stood and undid the latch on her door, allowing Bridgett to fret and fuss at will.

When she had been safely tucked under a fresh set of sheets with a tray of food sitting within reach, she pressed Bridgett about the letter Alaric had mentioned sending to her maid.

"He said nothing of consequence—at least, nothing he didn't already express in his letter to you, Miss."

"But what _exactly_ did he say?"

After receiving nothing more than vague, evasive answers, Cinderella finally gave up. It was obvious the woman was hiding something. Alaric would not have sent two letters unless he had a matter to discuss of great importance.

Bridgett allowed Abigail into the room for a brief moment, and Cinderella welcomed the girl with as warm a spirit as possible.

"What does the letter say, Miss?" Abby sat tentatively on the bed, her wide eyes sparkling in the candle light.

Cinderella read the letter aloud with great difficulty, taking comfort in the small hand that clasped hers when the tears came again.

"He'll be home soon, then?"

"I truly hope so."

A moment of silence passed before Abby spoke up in a soft voice.

"We are going out again tomorrow?"

"As long as we are allowed. I have so many things I wish to do before I become useless and Bridgett keeps me indoors."

"Well, I informed Mr. Weldon that we plan to keep to our same routine even if he follows every step." She seemed to sit up a little straighter, her face resolute.

"You told him that?" She tried to picture the mousy maid standing up to a mountain of a man.

"Well…" her resolution faded, "not in those exact words. I promised to take good care of you and to give him a full report at the end of the day. And, um, we can't go in disguise anymore." She fidgeted with a loose string on her uniform.

"But my position would only get in the way of my ability to help some of those people. The nerve of that man!"

"I was thinking," she hesitated, waiting until she was sure Cinderella was finished, "that maybe it could help us. I have some ideas, but I'm sure you don't want to hear them…"

Cinderella persisted until she got a concise answer out of the maid. It was a brilliant idea, and she convinced Abby to begin planning as soon as possible the next day.

...

Cinderella was anxious for the whole day to be through. Today, she would present Abby's suggestion to the king during her usual time in his office. She couldn't explain away her nerves, and the knots in her stomach only grew tighter when she recalled how tired and worried he looked in their meeting the previous day. He was taking Alaric's absence almost as hard as she was, but with her frequent visits to town the past month, she was able to keep her wits sharp. The king was becoming increasingly absent-minded and distant. It worried her.

"Enter!" The king's delayed response to her furtive knock made her stomach flip. She practiced the words in her head before stepping through the door.

"Ah, Cinderella." He glanced up once with a small smile before returning to a pile of papers in disarray.

She approached his desk and stood in front of it. The king went about his business for a few moments before looking to his left, and, finding Cinderella out of her usual place, met her forward glance with a puzzled expression.

"I have a proposition."

He set his papers down and looked at her intently. She watched the smile rise and fall from his lips, his eyes glassy with exhaustion. "Well?"

"For the past few weeks, I've been visiting the town—"

"Yes, Weldon told me something of that."

"Um, yes. I've been trying to see you, but it seems you have been very busy."

"Busy, indeed!" He motioned forlornly at his scattered desk.

"I think you are in need of a break—a holiday, perhaps." She waited as his brow furrowed while he processed the information.

"Go on…"

"Well, I noticed last week during the market that our numbers are getting less and less for out-of-town visitors." Cinderella took a moment to breathe, trying to place each of her next words exactly as she planned. "Which, in turn, has brought less money into the city. The rising-uh—increased taxes this month have hit many especially hard. Another store has gone out of business. The numbers of the homeless are rising…" She let her voice fade, looking up anxiously to gauge the king's reaction.

When she did not continue, he sighed deeply. "Don't feel anxious, my dear, for pointing out these little fallacies in my business matters. I have never been the best business man, and with the Duke's sudden absence, I have been left nearly on my own, for he would allow no other person to manage these affairs."

"May I ask where he has gone?" Cinderella frowned, wondering how long it had been since she'd seen the jovial Duke's face.

"That, I'm afraid, is not entirely clear to me either. He simply left a note saying he would return after investigating some business matter. It seemed fairly urgent." He stared down at his clasped hands folded across his desk and then looked up with a start, returning from some troubled reverie. "So what are your plans?"

"I was thinking, if you would be willing, that a few visits to the city would certainly spark some interest in the surrounding areas, which may bring more wealth into the economy over time. You could start by visiting some of the lower nobility in the area—get friendly with the city folk. Perhaps we could have some sort of event that would bring the whole town together?" She opened her mouth to continue, but the king simply held up his hand, his face suddenly lit with an infectious glow.

"My dear, I trust in your abilities entirely, and I have an idea for how we can put them to good use."

...

A week passed easily as Cinderella steadily became immersed in constant planning and organizing. The time had passed easily after she accepted the king's generous offer to open up an office, of sorts, in the center of town where she could work and stay overnight if needed. The location was ideal and actually put her next door to Oswin's bakery. She didn't remember what used to be there as it had remained empty for many years, but the shelves that lined the walls and the cozy living area upstairs suited her needs perfectly.

The king had offered a rather lofty monthly salary for her, which she tried to refuse but in the end accepted after thinking of a use for it. She would use some of the money to refurbish and refurnish the store, and the remainder she would use to pay any employees she might hire. She would, of course, be doing everything with Abby by her side. Together they had worked on some very simple but very effective strategies. The only trouble she could find was what name to give the little store she would be using. It had to be something that wouldn't attract too much attention—

This last worry, however, soon became a reality as Abby and Cinderella rounded the bend in the road, suddenly confronted by the edge of a small crowd of people.

"What's going on?" Cinderella stood on tiptoes.

"Look!" Abby pointed towards the new store where a large white banner hung over the doorway.

It read 'Welcome Princess Mondemar!' in bold red letters. Beneath it stood Oswin, rolling pin in one hand, who stood and spoke as if rallying troops.

"She should be here soon!" Many of the faces that smiled back at his amiable demeanor were unfamiliar to Cinderella. She knew nothing about these people, but she wished all the more for them anyway. They were, in a way, _her_ people.

Suddenly, she was being motioned forward, and looking up, she saw Oswin pointing towards her with one flower-covered hand brandishing the rolling pin. Applause circled throughout the group of fifty or more, and without warning, she was being ushered onto the wooden walkway next to Oswin. The crowd went still, faces staring expectantly.

"Why don't you tell us a little something about what you plan to do through your efforts here?"

Cinderella swallowed. She must get accustomed to speaking to groups—and she supposed now was as good a time as any. "I would like to see a more prosperous city, where we all can profit from each other's efforts, and where we can look beyond rank or status to help those in need." Her mouth clamped shut of its own volition, almost as involuntary as the words she had just spoken.

The applause was less pronounced now, many of the faces looking uneasy and sidelong at each other.

"Don't worry," Oswin whispered kindly from beside her, "they'll get used to the idea after a while if not at first."

Before she could reply, he reached up and pulled on a loop of rope, which set free the banner and revealed a carved and painted sign brandishing the name "Business Bookkeeping" in concise yet elegant letters.

The uncertainty Cinderella had felt after her impromptu speech was beginning to fade as she shared a smile with a few of the faces before her.

...

"Shouldn't you wear _this_ frock, Miss? The color does suit you immensely…" Bridgett held up yet another of her fancier gowns.

"I've told you that it's beginning to get uncomfortably tight in those dresses, but you are so persistent!" Cinderella feigned annoyance as her maid sighed and placed the dress back in its place.

"Why not this one? It was always too loose on you to begin with." She held up a light green dress with a simple yet elegant design.

Cinderella nodded silently and studied her figure in the mirror with a frown. After almost three months, she was only just beginning to show any signs of being pregnant.

Three months. That made it two and a half since she had heard from Alaric. Her heart still ached when she considered how many weeks and days that made, but it had been plaguing her less with the distractions of her new occupation. It helped distract her from the separation—and the possibility of an eternity apart.

"How lovely, my dear!" Bridgett fawned over Cinderella's reflection after she tied the sash with a wide bow, cleverly pulling at the dress so as to hide the bulge that would reveal the news they decided to keep hidden until Alaric's return.

Cinderella wondered how long they could keep it a secret.

A sudden knock at the door caught them both by surprise. Without waiting for a response, Abby burst into the room and caught her breath before conveying the news in a breathless manner. "Anastasia is having her baby! She sent for you to come right away."

Even with as much haste as possible, Cinderella, Bridgett, and Abby arrived after a thirty-minute delay in a swiftly drawn carriage. Upon arrival, Cinderella anxiously ran to the door and nearly ran into the midwife on her way out the door.

"Is everything—did anything—what happened?" She asked quickly of the middle-aged woman whose ruddy cheeks and damp forehead could be a sign of ill events.

"Easiest one I've ever done." She smiled pleasantly and motioned to the back room.

Cinderella gave a hasty thanks and stepped quietly into the bedroom, stopping abruptly on the threshold as her eyes studied the scene before her. Anastasia's face and hair were wet with the exertions of childbirth, but her gray eyes gleamed pleasantly as her head bent towards a squirming bundle in her arms. One of Oswin's hands stroked Anastasia's damp hair as he stared fixedly at the newborn. All was silent except for the small grunts coming from the child who brandished his tiny clutched fists in the air towards his mother's face.

"Hello!" Oswin's sudden greeting caught Cinderella off-guard, and she struggled to shove down the swirl of depression that threatened to boil over. She felt so out of place in this happy scene. "Come and see my son!"

"A son…" She stepped forward eagerly and stood in Oswin's place, staring down at a slightly pug-nosed little boy with fair hair just like his father. "What's his name?"

"Alexander." Anastasia beamed at her child and ran a finger delicately across his smooth cheek.

"A very noble name." Cinderella smiled at Oswin, whose full attention lay in the crumpled bundle of blankets.

She uttered a soft farewell and offered them both an invitation to visit whenever they were both fully recovered. It will do her good to watch her little nephew grow and develop. Perhaps her child and Alexander will be friends when the time comes. She placed a hand over her stomach instinctively and allowed Abby to lead her to the carriage. Somehow she managed to hold back the tears that threatened to escape, keeping her mind on the tasks at hand in her bookkeeping business. Abby did not protest the quick change in topic as they made their way into town, but Cinderella could feel the concerned glances directed at her.

"Everything will be okay." Abby's voice softened as she slipped her small hand into Cinderella's.

Her pregnancy was no secret to Abby, and it served as an enormous comfort to her at times. Who knew this mousy, nervous servant would turn out to be her closest friend while Alaric was gone?

A pleasant surprise awaited their arrival to her store: a well-dressed messenger dawdled patiently at the entrance, a few letters clutched in one gloved hand. Without waiting for Abby's assistance, Cinderella bolted from the carriage and gladly accepted the envelopes from the messenger's hand, placing a gold coin in his palm for the trouble. Cinderella fished the keys from her pocket, unlocked the front door of the store, and ran haphazardly up the bending staircase in the back to the cozy room upstairs. Collapsing onto the quilt-covered twin bed by the window, she quickly surveyed Alaric's handwriting on both of the letters. She set one aside and ripped into the other, which had been written at least three weeks ago.

_Gwyn—Cinderella, my love!_

_We are so very close to finishing this ridiculous pursuit, and soon I will be in your arms before the season passes! I think about you nearly every minute and miss you more by the passing days. Shiloh—the young man I mentioned in my previous letter—has stayed with me these past months on the road, and I don't know that I would have made it through some of the scrapes without him. But never you fret…the scrapes are small ones, and we remain safe despite the rugged travel. I cannot tell you how much I miss you, even if I had ten thousand pages on which to write! Give my love to father and your dear Bridgett. I know I can count on her to keep you from overworking yourself. I want you to be the picture of health when I see you next!_

_All my love forever,_

_Alaric_

She set this aside and tore into the other. This one lacked a formal heading or greeting. The writing looked rushed and sloppier than usual. Her throat tightened in fearful anticipation.

_We have him within sight—must be brief so we don't lose the trail. Insufferable man! He will not evade us for very long. Do not worry. All safe and preparing for whatever may come next. All my heart—Alaric_

She pressed the papers to her chest and curled around them in a tight ball as if trying to keep herself from crumbling to pieces. The pain that filled her chest only grew with images of him dressed in common clothes and fighting ruffians. It would have amused her if she didn't wish so strongly that he would stop the entire ordeal. She wished that he would just give up and return to her when she needed him most. Dark thoughts crossed her mind, and she burned with a momentary fury towards him for leaving on a fool's errand even after knowing she carried his child. But she knew the fury of Clarence's violence toward her had only enraged Alaric, and it would be impossible to use his hard-headedness against him if he returned. _When_ he returned. She comforted herself with images of running to him and wrapping herself in his arms, bestowing kisses all over his beautiful face and drinking in his existence. Cinderella fell asleep, softly smiling, with imaginings of their reunion seeping gloriously into her dreams.

...

**It doesn't end here, I promise! I hope you enjoy this present. I may follow it up with one for New Years, but don't hold your breath.**

**All my regard and well wishes!**

**(And don't forget to leave me a small present...perhaps a review?) **


	21. Chapter 21

**Happy Valentine's Day!**

**Stayed up till 6 in the morning writing this…so I hope it makes some sort of sense in my half-asleep stupor. **

**I appreciate some of the questions anonymous reviewers have been asking, but since you are anonymous, I cannot answer you individually. Therefore, I have tried to incorporate these answers into the story if at all possible. Keep in mind also that I do, in fact, have a plan for this story, even though it may not seem like it at times. **

**Much love!**

**Dream Come True**

_Chapter 21_

It made five months and twenty-five days since her last letter from Alaric. Cinderella was growing increasingly panicked. Her reflection in the glass told her she also needed her newest dress altered again. It seemed to tighten with each breath. Bridgett was at her wit's end to keep up with Cinderella's increased size due to pregnancy, and as she neared the fateful due date, she was almost aware of growing larger by the minute. She could no longer see her swollen ankles and pink toes around her pronounced stomach, and she didn't like to peer at herself in any reflective surface. Her arms and legs still appeared angular at the joints, but her sharp face had filled out till it was almost moon-shaped. Her fingers swelled slightly, so that she was forced to wear her elaborate wedding band on a chain around her neck. Her hair seemed thicker, if possible, but the strands were glossier and smoother. It was, perhaps, the only change she enjoyed.

She hobbled over to the window from her bedchamber and sighed heavily. A beautiful Spring day, and she had to stay cooped up inside. Cinderella had been forced to retire to the castle as her obvious weight gain meant the news of her pregnancy would be wide-spread in the town. Despite the fact that everyone had been suspecting it for some time, the king and Bridgett agreed it would be safer to keep her indoors once the fact became too apparent. It was difficult being stuck in the castle, despite its massive size and endless places to explore, but she still missed the outdoors. She was forbidden to even take small walks to the barn to visit her ailing horse. Bruno was allowed to follow her about in the castle as long as he behaved himself, and she delighted in his loyal and steadfast company.

Another change she despised was the temporary relinquishing of her bookkeeping and her duties to the king. Abby managed the store in town while Weldon took his place as the king's assistant. His smugness at all times annoyed her to no end. The king seemed not to take notice of it, however, and was forever occupied with some new line of business. The Duke had returned after a long stay in a neighboring kingdom. She did not catch the name, for she heard all of this through side conversation and listening at keyholes, but assumed it had been about some mix-up in paperwork, and a whole year of financial accounts had gone missing. The Duke stayed in his chambers for a few days to recover from the journey that had spanned more than half a year.

It was a sad existence, having to eavesdrop to keep up with all that went on. She felt like a prisoner and a visitor in the castle when it should have felt like home. She was forcibly kept indoors and all social or business matters were instantly cut off whenever she entered a room. The same questions always plagued her, and the endless petting and fussing often brought her close to screaming. However, she managed to keep her composure and kept herself confined to the library and her bedroom, with Bruno snoring fitfully on top of her feet.

A quiet knock at the door made her heart jump in anticipation, but Bruno continued to dream, his deep sleep unperturbed by her stirring. "Come in!" She welcomed any change to her monotonous days.

"Good morning, Cinderella!" Abby's friendly face brought a little genuine sunshine into the dim library.

"I'm so glad you're here, Abby." Cinderella placed a hand on Abby's arm, not quite as eager to hug the small girl as she used to be. Movements always felt so sluggish.

The young girl pushed one of the cushioned chairs closer and leaned in, her voice softening as she began to discuss the most recent matters of business at the bookkeeping store in town. Cinderella relished these brief interludes to stimulate her otherwise listless intellect of late. Reading became tiresome, and the possibility of answering and deciphering puzzling situations at her store brought a breath of fresh air into her body. The simple act of making decisions and seeing them pan out gave her a renewed energy.

"How is everything?"

"The money is looking very good this month for the charity drive. We have had so many donations that it is easy to lose track of the pledges, since we've been almost overrun by them lately."

"How is the suggestion box? Have you had good responses?"

"Oh, it is a marvelous invention! I can't believe I didn't think of it before. Where did you get the idea?"

"It comes from idleness." She patted her belly with a wry smile.

Abby giggled, her tinkling laughter filling the dusty corners of the room. "You wouldn't believe some of the silly things we've gotten. One person went as far as suggesting a new color scheme for the posters and signs to make them more 'aesthetic,' which was misspelled atrociously, of course."

Cinderella delighted in the laughter that she always shared with Abby. It would grow stale without her loyal friend.

In the middle of another discussion, however, they were interrupted by Weldon's unwelcome entrance into the library. He didn't knock before he entered, and a small smile tugged at his lips with obvious pleasure at interrupting an "illegal" business discussion.

"Good morning." He ambled absently to one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves and touched his finger to some of the bindings, humming tunelessly as he browsed.

Abby exchanged an exasperated look with Cinderella and turned her attention to Weldon's stiff back.

"Is there something particular you are looking for?" Cinderella stayed seated and was curious to see what expressions were playing out on his hidden face. "I can probably tell you the layout of this entire library. Goodness knows I've been in here enough…"

Weldon turned, hands clasped behind his back in a statuesque manner. His beady eyes studied Abby's seated figure for a moment before answering, eyes quickly darting to Cinderella's blank, expressionless face. "No, thank you. I appreciate your offer, Your Highness, but I am looking for a very specific book. His Majesty requires it." He finished with a smug air, standing up straighter, if possible despite his already upright and poised position.

"I assure you that not a single book has escaped my eye." Her jaw set determinately as she stared back into his cold blue gaze.

"His Majesty requires an almanac from the first ten to fifteen years of his father's reign as well as a financial record dating as far back as his grandfather's."

"Abby, would you be so kind as to direct Mr. Weldon to the agricultural shelf over by that window? I believe you know also where the section begins after the encyclopedias, where he may also find the financial information under 'F.'" Her eyes gleamed triumphantly at Abby as Weldon frowned, defeated.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby stood, meeting his penetrating stare with a winning smile. "Right this way, Sir." His tall, stiff figure loomed behind her small and faintly graceful figure as she led him to a shelf at the far end of the room, pointing out both books and even pulling them slightly from their position to ensure he chose the correct one.

He thanked her flatly and stepped aside to allow her passage. His gaze followed her for only a moment before he snatched the volumes and exited without another word.

Abby let out a peal of laughter, but it lacked the carefree nature it had before. "You know, I used to convince myself I wasn't scared of him, but he still makes me nervous no matter how hard I try to act brave. It's as if he can see right through me."

"I've never been fond of that man. There is something not quite right…something lacking, as if he was never born with natural human emotions."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Abby seemed eager to change the subject, and Cinderella couldn't blame her. "Oswin and Anastasia are due for a visit this week as soon as little Alexander's cold is cleared up."

Cinderella could feel her spirits rising just at the thought of seeing her little nephew.

In the next few days, Cinderella occupied herself by stealing away to Alaric's childhood bedroom, where she could sit peacefully without even the interruption of Weldon.

It was, however, during one of her sporadic visits to this room that she met the king on the way up the last flight of stairs to the corridor of Alaric's old rooms. She quickly attempted to fashion a reason for being in the unused wing of the castle, but the king's grave face and obvious preoccupation meant he had no concern for why she was there.

"Your Majesty?"

"Cinderella, my dear. Should you be moving about?"

"Oh, please don't tell Bridgett! She wouldn't let me get up for weeks if she knew." She hesitated, but continued. "Might I ask—why are you on this side of the castle?" It was quite at the opposite end of the enormous stone structure from his office.

"I was needing some time to think, as I'm sure you understand." He gave her a little wry smile. His hands shuffled with something behind his back, and she could see the edges of folded slips of paper if she surreptitiously peered around his wide stomach. They were unmistakably letters.

"Forgive my imprudence—but whose letters are those?"

"They are just business matters. Nothing to concern yourself with, my dear." His eyes darted away from her face, his ruddy cheeks paling slightly.

"Are they…from Alaric?" She peered into his downcast face, searching for some sign that it was true.

"I shouldn't. They may distress you." He fixed his weary eyes onto her face.

"It will distress me more if I do not read them!" She held a hand out, her face taut with concern.

After only a moment's hesitation, the king placed the small pile of letters into her fingers. The king touched her cheek gently, a sad smile pulling at his lips. "My dear daughter-in-law."

She shared the smile but only for an instant before walking up the stairs, straining with all her will not to run and clutching the papers close to her heart. She slid down her closed door and onto the floor with a heavy sigh, fighting down the sudden rise of bile to her throat at the tense restraint. Cinderella spread the three letters before her in the sunlight, noting the dates on each envelope and starting with the earliest.

_Father,_

_Hope all is well. I am sorry for the delay in writing. We have had no luck so far. I fear Shiloh is not well. May have to abandon search—should have done so long ago, and you are right to berate me. I am a fool to have left! We are nearing the end of our rations and have cleaned out both our pockets, and don't dare try and send money, for it won't reach us before we leave for our next destination (wherever that may be), and you know I would not accept the money if you had sent it! What I have to say is difficult. In the event that I do not return, please pass on the instructions and words I have expressed in previous letters. Tell her I do not deserve her forgiveness, but I ask it just the same. _

_Nothing more—we are on the move once again. _

_Your son,_

_Alaric_

She quickly moved to the next letter, thankful that the hard wax seals had been previously broken. Her hands shook too greatly to have managed any precise movements.

_Father,_

_All is not well with Shiloh. No leads in three days now. I fear this journey is over—yet I long to return to my wife and my home! I only wish I could turn back time._

_On the move again. All my love to my dear, dear wife and my child—God willing._

_Your son,_

_Alaric_

The final letter.

_Abandoning search. Shiloh extremely ill. Will be home as swiftly as possible._

_Alaric_

Cinderella pressed her hands against the letters before her against the floor. The last had been dated one week prior. Where was he, and how long would it take him to return?

...

Eight months and twenty-eight days. Anastasia was unable to bring Alexander to see Cinderella once more. It had been almost two months since she had been promised a visit, but she would just have to be patient for a little while longer. Abby was keeping Cinderella company in the library, where she had finally stretched into a comfortable position after three hours of inactivity.

"Quick, feel here—" She took Abby's hand and placed it against her round stomach, her face flushed with excitement.

"I can feel it kicking!" Abby's grin spread. "Do you think it is a boy or a girl? My mother always said she knew I was a girl when she was pregnant."

Cinderella waited, seeming to search her mind and her feelings, but all she knew for certain was that she was being kicked heartily by this child, and that it had been on and off for the past three weeks. It was an eerie sensation, but one that still had her heart racing.

Before she could reply to Abby's question, she suddenly doubled over in a sudden fit of pain.

"I'll call Bridgett!" Abby rose from her seat, and Cinderella would have stopped her and brushed it off as just another hearty kick from the child, but another stab of pain bit at her side and spread to her whole abdomen.

In an instant, as another shooting pain filled her body, she knew what was happening. "NO!" She shouted, but it was not to dissuade Abby who had already pulled the servant's chord. It was to stop the inevitable. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready!"

Abby ran to her side and clutched one of her hands. "Not ready for what?"

"This baby! I can't have this baby without Alaric!"

But it could not be stopped. A servant entered and Bridgett and the doctor were sent for. Abby hovered around uselessly until Bridgett arrived and intervened, immediately calling for all the female staff to assist in moving Cinderella to a bedchamber next door to the library. Hot water was called for, and endless sets of sheets seemed to appear on the dresser opposite the bed. It was an unfamiliar room, and Cinderella found herself surrounded by unfamiliar people.

"Make it stop! Oh, make it stop!" She cried out and tried to push away the hands that pulled at the straps on her gown, but another spasm of pain weakened her frenzy.

Bridgett's soothing voice filled her ears and seemed to overtake every other sound that overflowed the room around them. "There, there, my child. It will all be over in a short time. Don't you worry about your Alaric—he will come in due time. Let nature take its course."

Cinderella gripped her maid's arm, and stared intently into the flushed face. "Bridgett, you have to tell me what Alaric wrote to you. I need to know."

"Oh, my dear," she clasped Cinderella's hand and was momentarily distracted from giving instructions to the maids, "that was months ago. I hardly remember—"

"Please! Please tell me." She pressed the woman's hand and didn't need to force the pitiful, pleading smile that pulled at her taut mouth.

"He—he said that in the event he…" Bridgett took a quick breath and then let the words fall from her mouth, "In the event that he didn't make it back, I was to tell you how much he loves you and…and that he is sorry." Her mouth clamped shut, her face paling.

Cinderella could sense there was more to tell, but as another blinding twinge of pain overtook her body, she was forced to let it pass.

Later, while the pains of her contractions still plagued her, Cinderella lay in a dazed state on the bed, just waiting for the doctor to decide when it was best to begin. They seemed to think she had fallen temporarily asleep, or was so distracted she wouldn't hear, but their hushed words came to her in between the thoughts that consumed her.

"How is she, doctor?" Bridgett's voice trembled slightly.

_In the event that Alaric does not return…_

"She will have a hard childbirth. The pains came early—a little too early. I am concerned about the effects of the…incident that happened before His Highness left. The poison may have affected the child, or perhaps prevent her from having children in the future. We can only wait and hope for the best."

_In the event that he dies…_

Her thoughts cleared as the ache overtook her being. There was nothing she could do. The tears fell freely down her cheeks as she slowly resigned herself to having this baby without the comfort of her husband and the reassurance that he would be there to help her raise it.

...

Hours later, and after what seemed like an eternity, all of the pain washed away in the single instant that she saw the faces of her children. A boy and a girl—_twins_. The doctor had said it was a miracle the boy lived, since he was so small and fragile. He said it was a miracle at all that everything had gone as well. He continued, but she could hardly hear him over the throbbing of her heart. She looked back and forth between the faces of each child in either arm, marveling at how quickly the past day of misery disappeared at the sight of their little mottled faces, squinting in the sudden light of the real world.

"They both look in good health—five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot, and everything where it should be."

Her small moment of blissful reverie was broken by the opening of the bedroom door. Bridgett had made it perfectly clear that no visitors were allowed, but Abby's pale and persistent face peered around the door.

"Oh, alright! You may come in, but don't make a fuss."

Abby stepped silently into the room and instantly joined Cinderella's side, gazing wonderingly at the two wriggling bundles in her arms.

"Two! How perfectly beautiful they are! Oh, may I hold one?" Abby caressed the little girl's soft cheeks.

"Abby!" Bridgett gave her a warning glance.

"No, it's fine." Cinderella's voice was harsh and cracked after hours of shouting. How insignificant all the pain seemed now. She lifted the little girl into Abby's arms and stared just as bewildered into her son's placid face.

Would he look like his father when he was all grown up? Her heart shuddered, a familiar ache beginning to take hold of her chest. She forced it down and focused on the wonderful glow that filled Abby's cheeks as she rocked the baby girl in her arms.

"What will you name them?"

"I don't know." Cinderella hadn't thought about it. "I was always fond of the name Nessa. And Halsten has a nice ring to it—" She halted suddenly. "But I will wait."

Neither Abby nor Bridgett spoke, recognizing silently that Cinderella would wait for her husband's return, no matter how long that took.

The doctor broke the silence as he snapped his black bag shut, the listening device he had used to examine the children's hearts still hanging around his neck. He bowed gracefully and left with further instructions to Bridgett and a fond farewell to Cinderella, assuring her of future visits.

"And now it is time for you to rest, my dear." Bridgett moved to take the little boy from her arms, but before Cinderella could protest, she was already drifting off into a heavy sleep.

A soft coo reached her ears, and she found herself awake instantly, not quite sure what would have awoken her from such a deep, dreamless sleep. In an instant, she swore her eyes were playing a cruel trick on her, for there in a soft chair by her bed sat Alaric, one arm cradling the little girl and his lap full of the squirming little boy. Cinderella made a soft noise, almost in protest, which used to awaken her from dreams such as this—dreams that felt so tangible it was frightening.

Alaric looked up suddenly, his eyes glittering with tears. "My dear—my darling!"

He looked down at the children and then back at her with joy mixed with bewilderment. His face seemed a little more haggard than she remembered, and his clothes were oddly plain and worn.

"Oh, if only this were real!" She pushed herself into an upright position, wincing as she maneuvered around her stiff, sore body.

"But, Cinderella…" He trailed off, picking up his son in one arm and standing quickly to move towards her. "You aren't dreaming."

She felt her daughter's soft, warm body as he set it gently into her arms. He leaned down, their son in one arm, and kissed her heartily on the mouth.

"Alaric!" She leaned forward and welcomed the other kisses he placed on her lips and cheeks, her heart fit to burst with joy. "Oh, I am so happy!"

He moved to sit beside her on the bed, taking the son in his arms but still keeping his eyes on her face. The feelings passing between them could not have been put into words adequately. He pressed his lips to her forehead once more and then remembered the squiggling child in his arms.

"Oh, my dear, but _two_ children at once! What will we do?" His eyes filled with tears as he stared down at the faces of their children. "What will we name them?"

"Nessa." She looked at her daughter.

"Nessa Gwyn." He prompted.

She nodded, feeling her face break into an almost painful ear-to-ear smile. "Perfect. And the boy? I always liked Halsten."

He thought for a moment. "Since we're going with a theme," he laughed shortly, "how about Abram Halsten?"

She agreed instantly. "Nessa Gwyn and Abram Halsten. Gwyn and Abram." She stared again at her husband, taking his hand in hers just to ensure he won't disappear without warning. "Will we ever tell them the meaning of those two names?"

He laughed heartily, and she saw the color returning to his thin face. "Where would we begin?"

**I hope you enjoyed it, my lovelies. **

**You are loved.**


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